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LIFE 



RICHARD FULLER, D.D. 



BY 



• > 
J.«H. CUTHBERT, D.D., 

FASTOB OP THE FIRST BAPTIST CHUBCH, WASHINGTON, D.C. 




1879. ^ 



NEW YORK: 

SHELDON AND COMPANY. 

1879. 



THIS UHtAKY 




COPYBIGHT, 1878, 

By SHELDON 8c CO. 



Stereotyped by Band, Avery, <& Co. 
Boston. 



PREFACE. 



IT is not without anxiety that I have undertaken this work. 
The remarkable character to be depicted, the interest and 
variety of the questions involved, necessarily produce the feel- 
ing. But other considerations have outweighed this reluctance. 
The wishes of the family, with the assurance of sympathy and 
approval on the part of numerous friends whose judgment I 
respect, have determined me, in humble reliance on the bless- 
ings of God, to undertake the work. 

A serious difficulty presented itself at the outset, — the absence 
of any diary or memoranda kept by Dr. Fuller himself. In the 
case of men like Chalmers, Guthrie, and Frederick Robertson, — 
men of kindred genius, — or, in our own land, men like Judson, 
•Baron Stow, and J. B. Taylor, abundant material was at hand in 
the full diaries that were kept by the illustrious dead. But, with 
the exception of a few fragments and valuable letters, Dr. Fuller 
left no papers of the kind. Like a ship gone over the sea, the 
waves seemed to close up on a trackless path. But some who 
have sailed near that ship have watched its progress ; and, 
though the disappearance of that majestic form has left a sad 
blank on the horizon, it will still be a source of melancholy 
satisfaction to the writer, and of interest and profit, possibly, to 
the reader, to look over these notes of a very remarkable life. 

3 



4 PREFACE. 

The compiler of these pages is prompted to the work by feel- 
ings of mingled love, reverence, and gratitude. 

To the friends and admirers of the honored dead in all parts 
of the land he would here acknowledge his indebtedness for the 
valuable aid they have rendered. 

With the prayer for the blessing of God on this record of a 
life of consecration to the noblest of all causes, I would inscribe 
this humble in memoriam to the denomination of which he was 
such an ornament, and to the Christian world which reveres and 
cherishes his memory. 

J. H. C. 

Washington, D.C., 1878. 



. 



CONTENTS. 



CHAP. PAGB 

I. Beaufort, South Carolina 7 

II. Early Religious History of Beaufort ... 10 

III. The Family 15 

IY. Early Life 31 

V. Harvard College 35 

VI. Return Home 44 

VII. Law 47 

VIII. Marriage 56 

IX. A New Life 62 

X. Baptism and Ordination. ...... 71 

XI. Pastorate in Beaufort. — Old Church .... 77 

XLT. Visit to Europe 85 

XIII. Pastorate in Beaufort. — New Church ... 97 

XJV. Work among the Colored People .... 103 

XV. School of the Prophets 114 

XVI. Evangelism 121 

XVII. Controversy. — Catholic 139 

XVIII. Controversy. — Slavery 152 

XIX. Removal to Baltimore 160 

XX. Work in Baltimore 168 

XXI. Convention-Work 179 

XXII. General Christian Work 192 

XXIII. Letters 222 

XXIV. Editorials 242 

5 



6 CONTENTS, 

PAGE 

XXV. 1861-1865 259 

XXVI. Eutaw Place 277 

XXVII. The Turn 296 

XXVIII. The Close 300 

XXIX. Inference 313 



LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 



CHAPTER I. 

BEAUFORT, SOUTH CAROLINA. 

" I know the secrets of a land : 
Fair is that land as evening skies, 
And cool, though in the heart it lies 
Of burning Africa." 

SOME places give distinction to those who are born in 
them. Cicero, in one of his letters, writes that the 
name of a Roman citizen was an honor and a safeguard to 
the ends of the earth. Other places are distinguished by 
the names associated with them. To this class belongs the 
little town named at the head of this chapter. 

It is little more than half way from Charleston to Savan- 
nah. After leaving Charleston by steamer by what is 
known as the outside or sea route, you steer south-west, in 
sight of the low-lying Edisto Islands, until, after some four 
hours' travel, the dark outline of what are called " The Hunt- 
ing Islands " rises directly over the bow. Soon you are over 
St. Helena bar. Running sometimes over broad sheets of 
water, then through channels so narrow that one could almost 
leap from the deck to the shore, after a sharp turn round 
Pigeon Point you sweep into the noble river where the tide 
comes in from the south, and the next moment you are at 

7 



8 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

the wharf of the good old town of Beaufort. If not " the 
joy of the whole earth," as Jerusalem was, it is certainty 
"beautiful for situation. " We have approached the town 
from the north. From the south, the Savannah side, the 
river runs up to the town in almost a straight line from the 
sea, distant from twelve to fifteen miles. Coming from this 
direction at night, you would see the lights of the place for 
miles directly ahead, until Ity a sudden curve the steamer is 
at right angles to her former course, and } t ou are in what 
ma}^ be called the Ba} T of Beaufort. 

Older than Charleston, and with a superior port of entrance, 
it was one of the first settlements in the Carolinas. Spanish 
and French adventurers, feeling their way along the coast, 
soon found the noble harbor of Port Royal. On the banks 
of these streams may still be seen the mounds and debris of 
what are called the "Old Forts," where these first settlers 
fortified themselves against the attacks of Indians, and ad- 
venturers like themselves. We have glowing accounts from 
some of these pioneers as to their discoveries in the waters 
and adjoining islands of Port Royal : — 

" Here (Port Royal), on the 27th May, 1562, Ribault cast anchor in 
a depth of ten fathoms, at the opening of a spacious hay, which, from 
cape to cape, was three leagues wide, and formed the entrance to a 
noble river. The name of Port Royal was given to this river on ac- 
count of its size and the beautiful scenery around it. The harbor 
he esteemed one of the best and fairest in the world; so that the 
largest ships of France, yea, the argosies of Venice, might enter in 
there. Having moored his vessels, Ribault with his soldiers went 
on shore, and was equally delighted with the stately cedars, the wide- 
spreading oaks, and the fragrant shrubs." — Rivers' s History of 
South Carolina, p. 21. 

But the English soon drove out the French and Spanish 
element, and planted a colony of their own in Beaufort. 
The Province of Carolina at first embraced the whole region 
south of Virginia, and was formally settled under Charles II. 
In an age of adventure it is curious to see the professed 



BEAUFORT, SOUTH CAROLINA. 9 

motives of these lord-proprietors of the newly-discovered 
lands, as set forth in their charters. 

The charter is dated March 24, 1663, and runs as 
follows : — 

"Whereas our right trusty and right well-beloved cousins and 
counsellors, Edward Earl of Clarendon, &c, being excited with a 
laudable and pious zeal for the propagation of the Christian faith 
and the enlargement of our empire and dominion, have humbly be- 
sought leave of us to transport and make an ample colony of our 
subjects in the parts of America not yet cultivated or planted, and 
only inhabited by some barbarous people who have no knowledge of 
Almighty God," &c. — Rxvers's History, p. 62. 

But God makes " the wrath of man to praise him." Out 
of the mixed and false motives of men in pursuit of their 
own personal ends of ambition and gain he brings forth the 
accomplishment of his own plans. Through French and 
Spanish adventure, and English daring and enterprise, the 
lowlands of Carolina were discovered and settled. After 
some changes of site and government, and occasional perils 
from Indian wars, the town of Beaufort was finally built, and 
continues to the present day, — somewhat of an old-fashioned 
town under the new dress and manners of the late revolu- 
tion. 



10 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 



CHAPTER II. 

EARLY RELIGIOUS HISTORY OF BEAUFORT. 

" How soft the music of those village-bells, 
Falling at intervals upon the ear ! " 

THE march of events in history is generally after the fol- 
lowing order : First the adventurer opens the way ; 
then the trader follows in his steps ; and then the mis- 
sionary comes to supply what neither trade nor civilization 
can give, — " the truth as it is in Jesus." The Roman do- 
minion before Christ prepared the way for the spread of the 
gospel ; and the discoveries of European adventurers on the 
American coast, for the planting of the Church of Christ on 
this continent. 

From the grant to the proprietors we see how the Episco- 
pal Church was at first the Established Church. The Puri- 
tans settled New England ; and, though flying from persecution 
in the old country, they soon made it rather warm in the new 
settlements for all who differed from them. High-church 
Episcopalians settled Virginia and the Carolinas, and with 
these it was essential to good breeding and sound doctrine to 
put down dissenters. But the tide of immigration compelled 
a more tolerant spirit. 

In the year 1761, when the Episcopal Establishment was 
in full force, the vestry and church-wardens in Beaufort, in 
their letter to their correspondent in England requesting his 
aid in procuring for them a minister, gave it as their opinion 
that "a gentleman of a studious turn and regular deport- 



EABLY RELIGIOUS HISTORY OF BEAUFORT. H 

ment, who would maintain the authority of the church, with- 
out being austere, or rigid to dissenters, of whom there were 
many, would suit better than one of a contrary disposition. " 
— Ramsey's History of South Carolina. Statistical Account 
of Beaufort by Dr. Finley, p. 589. 

Religious as well as civil liberty soon became the law of 
the land ; but to this day the spirit of the old hierarchy 
breathes around the spires of St. Michael's and St. Philip's 
in " the city by the sea." We well remember the awe in- 
spired by the white surplices and flowing robes of the 
bishops and priests, and how the plain dress of the Baptist 
minister seemed to mark him as a being of inferior sanctity. 
Either in deference to popular sentiment, or from other 
motives, Baptist ministers like Furman and Manly used 
sometimes to don these robes. But "the pride and pomp 
and circumstance " was all the other way. The very sexton 
of the Episcopal church in Beaufort, a short, colored man, 
seemed to ring his bell, and walk about his ample glebe, as 
if bell, steeple, and himself were far above the neighboring 
Baptist meeting-houses, sexton, cupola, and all. But tern- 
pora mutantur, et nos mutamur in illis; and the Beaufort 
of to-day, in its political and religious features, is a very 
different place from the colonial and ante-bellum settlement. 

While the Established Church was the church of the ma- 
jority, all who came from the mother-countiy were not, of 
course, members of that communion. Independent and 
Presbyterian churches were established in Beaufort at an 
early date. To this day the ruins of the old Independent 
church may be seen on the northern side of the town, — a 
church which soon declined, and lost its organization. Its 
members drifted into other churches ; while owls, bats, and 
coveys of partridges, took up their abode in the old ruins. 
Mr. Thomas Fuller, the father of the subject of this sketch, 
proposed to join this body on his conversion in 1803, but, 
by a singular providence, was diverted from this purpose the 



12 LIFE OF BICHABD FULLER. 

night before the contemplated act. There were a few Pres- 
byterians of the regular order in the town, and these met 
occasionally for worship at the house of Dr. Finlej^. 

The Baptist church in Beaufort was organized in 1800 ; 
though, long before, there was a preparation for it in the 
labors of devoted missionaries. Through all the region be- 
tween Charleston (where the venerable Furman ministered) 
and Savannah (where Marshall and Holcombe labored) 
these pioneers of our faith travelled and preached. Dr. 
Holcombe of Georgia, while pastor of the Euhaw Baptist 
Church, situated a short distance from Beaufort, on account 
of the superior healthfulness of the latter place made his 
residence there in the year 1794. His description of the 
town, especially of its religious complexion, is given in the 
following letter to his brother, written after his settlement in 
Philadelphia in 1812 : — 

"My dear Brother, — The principal inhabitants of Beaufort, 
though possessed of learning, wealth, and talents, were, with a few 
honorable exceptions, strangers to true religion, and strongly pre- 
judiced against the Baptists. The doctrine of regeneration they 
treated with contempt ; and baptism, if we understand the meaning 
of the word, had never been administered in their vicinity. If ever I 
felt the insnaring fear of man, it was then; but, fully persuaded that 
God and truth were on my side, I never gave place, no, not for an 
hour, to their deluded adversaries. Several ' fellows of the baser 
sort ' made attempts to turn my ministerial exercises into ridicule 
by adding to their sacrilege in stealing my Bible a mock ordi- 
nance while I was administering the Lord's Supper to a few of his 
despised followers. It is with pleasure I remark, however, that the 
general reception I met with in Beaufort was hospitable and polite. 
The first baptized in any of these rivers which wash the shores of 
Beaufort were Mrs. Gedier and Mrs. Jones, who were widows in- 
deed, and, from their age and piety, highly venerable. The day 
on which they were buried with Christ in baptism was unexceptiona- 
bly fine. These circumstances brought almost the whole city 
together. Contrary to the anticipations of some, the behavior of 
the congregation was becoming the solemnity of the occasion; and 
the late Col. Edward Barnwell, a zealous Episcopalian, admitted that 



EARLY RELIGIOUS HISTORY OF BEAUFORT. 13 

what I advanced to prove the essentiality of immersion to Christian 
baptism was sufficient for my purpose. Similar concessions, it is 
well known, have been made by the great Luther and the Church 
Prayer-Book. Subsequent to this period, the liquid element there, 
in countless instances, has reflected as a faithful mirror the burial 
and resurrection of our Lord in this holy ordinance. To about five 
hundred of its subjects at once I have since had the honor and hap- 
piness to administer the sacred Supper within those walls which 
witnessed its shameful profanation by the sons of Belial. To the 
rest of us had been added some even of those profane mockers. 
Judge of the triumphs of my soul when I beheld with others the 
flower of Beaufort filling their seats at the Lord's Table, to such an 
extent, that the disparities between communicants and the residue 
of the assembly were, in all respects, glorious to almighty grace." — 
Holcombe's Letters, p. 54. 

In the year 1800 the church was formally organized, and 
settled the beloved Joseph Cook as the first pastor. In the 
old meeting-house was a marble tablet on the right of the 
pulpit, with the inscription: "Joseph Cook. — He, being 
dead, yet speaketh." We remember, as a bo}~, reading, 
and wondering what it meant. Dr. Holcombe was called to 
the church on the death of Mr. Cook ; but, declining the call, 
Dr. Brantly was elected pastor. This eminent minister, while 
he served the church, was at the same time president of the 
Beaufort College, — a double duty which more than once 
devolved on this servant of Christ, alwa} T s abundant in 
labors. If the Baptists had anj^where the mark of the first 
Christians, as the sect " everywhere spoken against," they 
certainly enjoyed this apostolic distinction in Beaufort. The 
novelty of their views of baptism and church-membership, so 
different from the old traditions, not only attracted attention, 
but insured persecution. Dr. Holcombe was a Revolutionary 
soldier, a man of courage, not apt to blanch under fire ; but 
he had a good deal of rough experience at first as a min- 
ister in Beaufort. The wealthier classes were impatient of 
any change in these matters ; while there were not wanting 
the "lewd fellows of the baser sort," who are always on 



14 LIFE OF BICHABD FULLER. 

hand to give a rough expression to these sentiments in 
violent demonstration. But, if "the blood of the martyrs 
was the seed of the Church," conduct like this was sure to 
re-act in favor of the truth. The frowns of wealth, the 
coarser assaults of ruffianism, but swelled the triumphs of 
grace. "The word of God grew and multiplied." Under 
the successive ministrations of Cook and Brantly, and the 
excellent Graham (a Scotchman), and the subject of this 
sketch, the church was gradually but firmly established. 
The first shock of the late war broke on the shores of Port 
Royal, when almost the whole white population of Beaufort 
left their homes, many of them never to return. But " the 
remnant," which is always left, has been gathered again; 
and, under the pastoral care of the Rev. Mr. Jones, they are 
now worshipping in the house built by the prayers and toils 
of the lamented Fuller. 



THE FAMILY. 15 



CHAPTER III. 

THE FAMILY. 

" All, all are gone, — the old familiar faces." 

AMONG- the first settlers in Carolina we find the names 
of Fuller and Middleton. The early chronicles men- 
tion the services of Capt. Fuller in repelling the attacks of 
Indians. If he is the progenitor of the Beaufort family, we 
may trace the origin of the spirit which burned so brightly 
in the descendants, and made them men and women of true 
and loft}' coinage. The record of the name on the mother's 
side is more full. The name Middleton occurs repeatedly 
in the colonial records with honorable mention. In succes- 
sive administrations, in questions of finance and the man- 
agement of the colony, in that critical transition period, in 
civil disturbances and riots which were of frequent occur- 
rence, the Middletons appear throughout as wise counsellors 
and true patriots. With such a line of ancestors, we are 
not surprised to find the name of Arthur Middleton among 
the signers of the Declaration of Independence. 

Thomas Fuller and Elizabeth Middleton married and 
settled in Beaufort during the Revolution, or soon after those 
stirring daj's. Beaufort was, then as afterwards, the summer 
retreat of the neighboring planters. Its comparative exemp- 
tion from malaria, with its convenient and beautiful location, 
made it a pleasant and popular summer residence. 

The winter months the planters usually spent on their 
plantations, supervising the preparation of their crops for 



16 LIFE OF BICHABD FULLER. 

the market, and maturing their plans for the next season. 
Their leisure hours they passed in literary pursuits, and in 
those field-sports which were so attractive in a region whose 
fauna and flora border on the tropics. 

But, as soon as the spring fairly opened, the malaria came 
with the vegetation ; and it was at the peril of contracting 
the deadly country- fever, more dreaded even than the yellow- 
fever, that the planters lingered on their places. The 
colored people, from some peculiarity of constitution, are 
not as susceptible to these fevers ; as, in Africa, they will live 
and thrive where disease and death lurk for the white man 
like the beasts of the jungle. So, with the early spring, the 
families returned to the comparatively healthy retreat which 
Beaufort afforded. Possibly from the constant smoke, or the 
free circulation of the air directly from the sea, — at any rate, 
Beaufort was always regarded as a safe and healtlry summer 
retreat. When the tide was up, and the heat of the day was 
tempered by the fresh sea-breeze, and the people came out for 
their evening ride or walk, it was a very picturesque scene. 
The main street that skirted the river in its sweep around 
the town was lined with equipages and pedestrians ; while the 
noble sheet of water, dotted over with pleasure-boats racing 
and dashing over the waves, was not unlike the beautiful 
Bay of Naples. The black thunder-cloud, too, that invaria- 
bly rose over the land against the sea-breeze, supplied the 
place of Vesuvius in the picture. Beautiful walks ! moon- 
light sails ! sweet songs of the boatmen keeping time to the 
sweep of the oars ! — 

" The music in my heart I bore 
Long after it was heard no more." 

Sheldon was the country residence of the Fullers, some 
fifteen miles out of Beaufort, on the mainland. From the 
public road to the house, and all around it, was one of the 
noblest avenues of magnolias {M. grandijlora) in all that 



THE FAMILY. 17 

land of stately forest-trees. The overhanging and interla- 
cing branches formed a perfect archwa}' ; and, when the trees 
were in bloom with the large white flowers, it was a triumphal 
arch. As j^ears added to their stateliness, they seemed to be 
the presiding genii of the place. As night came on, the}' 
were vocal with the wikt^ concert of owls that flocked there 
from the surrounding swamps. Around this central mansion 
were grouped the usual outworks and background of a plan- 
tation, — the cotton-houses and the houses of the colored 
people, with the alternate corn and cotton fields beyond. 
Some of the magnolias are still there, and the birds and 
streams still sing in concert ; but every thing else is changed, 
— the old mansion a ruin, and the romantic beauty of the 
spot vanished like the dear faces of the original family group. 

The summer residence of the family in Beaufort was a 
fine mansion of tabby (a mixture of shells and small stones) 
on the south front of the town. The house stands on a 
commanding bluff, and the river stretches awa}~ in front, for 
miles and miles in an almost unbroken line, towards Port 
Ro}'al. An enclosure of choice plants, with a grand old 
S3'camore, intervened between the piazza and the front street ; 
while spacious out-buildings, and a garden that yielded deli- 
cious oranges, formed the premises in the rear. Such was 
the home of the happy circle gathered there in the long 
Southern summer, — a home where intelligence, piety, and 
music combined to produce a scene which to this day lives in 
the memories of the descendants of that family as Jerusa- 
lem looms up to the exiled Jew, or the dear fatherland dwells 
in the heart of the Swiss or German emigrant. 

But the charm and glory of that home was the religious 
character of this family. 

Mr. Thomas Fuller, the father, has left a manuscript of 
his experience ; and a remarkable document it is. In these 
days of loose and eas}' professions it is more valuable than 
some old exhumed classic. It begins, where all conversions 



18 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

begin, in distress for sin, — distress, in this case, deep and 
long-continued, but succeeded by a peace corresponding to 
the previous depression. If Edwards had seen it in his 
day, he would have set it down as the most remarkable of all 
his " remarkable conversions." It is too full to be copied 
here, but so valuable, that we will copy a portion of it as a 
fitting prelude and introduction to the life of the son : — 

" It was in the winter of 1802 and the spring and summer of 1803, 
a memorable year ; which I hope I may never forget to reflect upon 
with gratitude and joy, as it was big with events that took place with 
me and in me, that have induced me to commit the same to writing, 
that those who may read hereafter, when I have no longer a tongue 
to speak, may reflect upon their importance." 

He had been for years a communicant in the Episcopal 
Church, a fair and reputable professor, but, as he soon 
found, without any knowledge of true religion. Judge Clay, 
at the head of the bar in Savannah, had recently been con- 
verted, and on his baptism by Dr. Holcombe, and induction 
soon after into the ministry, had begun a very zealous and 
useful career. He was soon called as the successor of Dr. 
Stillman to Boston. Soon after his conversion, he came to 
Beaufort to spend the summer with his family. 

" I took the first opportunity " (writes Mr. Fuller) "to visit him. 
The more I conversed with him, the more I found, on my part, igno- 
rance and pride. I mentioned the effect on my mind in reading the 
evangelists, particularly the passages that related to the crucifixion. 
Mr. Clay observed that these impressions were favorable to my state ; 
that they were the operations of the Spirit of God, and an evidence 
of the love of G-od to me ; and that the Scriptures had declared, as to 
those whom he once loved, that he would ' love them to the end.' If 
there was ever a time when a quotation of Scripture came with self- 
evidence of its truth to any one, this observation came to me. Why 
any manifestations of the kind, — the tenderness with which my mind 
was exercised towards him; the full recollection of the extraordinary 
event which had taken place respecting my son, who was restored to 
health from the jaws of death, — and, after these and many other 
mercies, leave me to perish! If he had done these things for me, it 
was of his own mercy and love, and he would love me to the end." 



THE FAMILY. 19 

But the ' ' horror of a great darkness ' ' was to come over 
him. 

"Let me never forget what that night disclosed to me; or rather 
let me say, ' May I never again experience what I did that night and 
part of the two succeeding nights ! ' I had been asleep, I suppose, 
about two hours, when I awoke in the most dreadful state. I cannot 
describe how I felt. Words cannot describe my distress and anguish 
of soul. If there is a state of woe unutterable, this was my feeling. 
That there must be such a state is beyond doubt, from what I expe- 
rienced. I endeavored to get relief by tears; but the fountain of 
tears was dried up. At one time on my knees, with anguish of soul ; 
and then sitting on my bed, bewailing my dreadful state, and implor- 
ing for mercy. I thought of awaking my family; but it no sooner 
occurred to me than I dismissed it, as it was evident that no human 
power could afford any relief. . . . 

"I arose, and had family worship. How different the feeling 
from that of the evening before! Then I had been satisfied with 
myself: now I felt viler than the vilest, and was glad to be left alone. 
I took up the Sermons of President Davis, more to divert my mind 
than with any expectation of relief. I had read but a few lines, 
when I felt a tenderness which induced me to lay down the book and 
betake myself to prayer. There was presented to my mind a view, 
which, if it had been real, could not have had a greater effect on my 
mind in causing me again and again to burst forth in gushes of tears, 
which could not be restrained, though entreated by my wife, who, 
hearing me, had come into the room. The view was of my Saviour's 
crucifixion. Truly the expression of the prophet Zechariah (xii. 10) 
was verified in my case ; for, having this view of Him who had been 
pierced for me, I mourned for him as one mourneth for his only 
son, and was in bitterness as one is in bitterness for his first-born. 
Though frequently entreated by my wife not to lament as I did, it 
availed nothing : no human power or persuasion could keep me 
from this new state of distress; for it was new indeed to me. Nor 
did I ever conceive that any human creature could be affected as I 
was. Indeed, no one who was never thus exercised can form any 
idea of a state in which the Spirit of God is manifesting to the soul 
the things concerning the Lord our Redeemer. . . . 

"I slept that night, and awoke and found my Redeemer near. 
That morning (Aug. 1, 1803) I was in prayer alone, as was usual 
with me. After I arose from my knees, and had been seated about 
two minutes, there came to me such an excess of ecstatic joy and 



20 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

bliss, that, had it continued with me for half an hour, I should have 
died. A description is impossible. No soul can conceive of it who 
has not felt it. It is the 'joy unspeakable and full of glory' of 
which the apostle speaks. Along with it came a ' peace that pass- 
eth understanding.' I felt and knew I had all my sins pardoned, 
and peace with my blessed God, through the ever-to-be-adored 
Saviour. My soul now was all on the wing for death to take me 
away from the world. Having tasted that the Lord is gracious, I 
no longer desired to be absent from Him who had done such won- 
derful things for me, — had given me the earnest of his Spirit on 
this glorious day of my new birth, had made me an heir of eternal 
happiness, had given me the first-fruits of the Spirit. If these 
were but the first-fruits, what would the harvest be ? Truly the 
apostle says, 'Flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God;' 
for flesh and blood cannot exist under its joys." . . . 

Then, after some equally marked exercises on the subject 
of baptism, he united with the Baptist Church. 

" It seemed impossible that I should neglect it " [baptism] " with- 
out some great disaster happening to me. Sunday, Nov. 6, 1803, 
I was baptized in the river with . several negroes who had been 
received the afternoon before. This act has caiised some estrange- 
ment between my friends and myself. Nevertheless, I shall ever 
have cause to rejoice that the blessed Lord my God led me in this 
way, and plucked me as a brand from the burning. Let every one 
act as he has light. We would do well to attend to what our Lord 
on his baptism said to John: 'Suffer it to be so now; for thus it 
becometh us to fulfil all righteousness.' "... 

Such is a condensed view of a very remarkable experience. 
It is more like the birth-pangs of the apostle of the Gentiles, 
the agony of Luther, and the strong convictions and glori- 
ous visions of John Bunj-an, than the ordinary experiences 
of Christians ; and it receives additional emphasis and value 
from the record of an extended and devoted life. 

A company of children and servants in the country were 
once watching a boat just launched from the neighboring 
shore. With the strong pull of willing hands, and to the 
sound of some boat-song, it was starting for Beaufort. We 
remember the half wonder anrl sorrow with which it was 



THE FAMILY. 21 

whispered, "They are carrying Mr. Fuller to Beaufort." 
He was ill and dying. He soon passed away to that better 
land, for which, in the ardor of his first love, he had sighed 
and panted when "his soul was on the wing to be gone." 
"Do you not hear?" he said to the company around his 
bed. " What? " they asked ; for the sounds were inaudible 
to them. " The music," he answered. " Lift me up ; open 
the window ! " He was gone. 

Elizabeth Middleton, the wife of Mr. Thomas Fuller, and 
mother of Richard Fuller, was a woman of superior mind 
and culture. The quick perception, sound judgment, and 
energ}' of character, which distinguished the Middletons in 
colonial times, were strongly marked in her. Some of her 
grandchildren remember that venerable figure, seated in an 
arm-chair, with her neatly-trimmed cap, and a book in her 
hand. She was a close and constant reader. In mind, 
manner, and appearance, the subject of this sketch, more than 
any other of the children, resembled the mother. " She pos- 
sessed talents," writes an intimate friend, "of the highest 
order, with great energy of character. From her the son is 
said to have inherited some of his strongest characteristics, 
; — the keen sense of humor, with great originality and ear- 
nestness." "Fuller," said the elder Bra ntry, "is just like 
his mother : I have seen her at one moment all smiles or 
laughter, and at the next in tears, as some pious word or 
reference sprung a fountain in her heart." Dr. Fuller used 
to say of her, that, " in hours of strong temptation, he 
always felt her near him as an almost conscious presence." 

In his Autobiography Mr. Fuller refers to his wife in terms 
which show equal respect and affection. Speaking of his 
mental distress previous to his conversion, he writes, "Such 
was the state of my mind, that I concluded at times that the 
world drew near an end : at other times I thought it a pre- 
sentiment of the death of my wife ; for next to the end of the 
world, such was my attachment, I thought that nothing more 



22 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

disastrous could happen to me." Her influence is acknowl- 
edged in the religious order and training of the family. " I 
determined to comply with a wish Mrs. Fuller had for years 
expressed, — to have worship performed in my family. " Re- 
ferring to a particular occasion, he says, — 

" From this blessed experience" [his private devotional exereisesl 
" I went to family worship. I do not recollect the chapter ; but, whilst 
reading it, I was impressed with a most lively sense of its truth. 
Since then, I learned to know that any chapter would have read as 
pleasantly, if the blessed influence of the Spirit were operating on 
my mind as then. A hymn given out by Mrs. Fuller appeared to 
accord exactly with the joy I had experienced a half-hour before. I 
then went to prayer, praying that daily bread should be given, not 
to our bodies only, but also to our souls." 

It was Christian and Christiana setting out together for the 
Celestial City. He passed over the river, like Bunyan's 
Pilgrim, first; but she soon followed him. On the faded 
stone over her grave in Beaufort is the inscription, — 

" Elizabeth Middleton, Born . 

Born Again , 1804." 

Her last word was the expression of Christian hope and 
assurance. Being told by her sister that the approaching 
sabbath was their communion season, she sweetly added, in 
the words of her Lord, " I will not drink henceforth of this 
fruit of the vine until that day when I drink it new with } t ou 
in my Father's kingdom." It is said that the parting charge 
of one of these Christian parents to their children was, that 
they should dispense with the customary signs of mourning, 
as they felt the occasion to be one of joy rather than of 
sorrow. And the remembrance comes like the dim memory 
of a dream, of the white dresses of the daughters as they 
walked together over the greensward on their way to the 
house of God. 

" The gifts and calling of God are without repentance," — 
without any change on his part ; and without any question of 



THE FAMILY. 23 

merit, advantage, or lineage, on ours. Still, the blessing of 
God is on the seed of the righteous ' ' to the third and the 
fourth generation." Never was there a more remarkable 
illustration of this than in this f amity. 

Mary Bull, the eldest, married John Porteous, Esq., a law- 
yer in Beaufort. She was a gifted woman, with keen wit 
that sometimes flashed into sarcasm. Even Richard, as 
she always called her brother, did not escape these sallies. 
After hearing him preach a sermon once on " an abundant 
entrance into heaven," in which he said, that, " for his part, 
he would not scrape into the kingdom, but would go in with 
flying colors," — u Ah, Richard ! " she said to him, " if you 
had scraped through half as much, my boy, as I have, you 
would be glad to scrape in too." Her independence of char- 
acter may have carried her a little too far, when, looking 
over her husband's library once, and finding some books 
tainted, as she regarded it, with Unitarian sentiments, she 
forthwith put every one in the fire. The good man, on his 
return, naturally asked about the books. " I burnt them," 
she said: U I could never consent to this poison being ac- 
cessible to our children." This may not be a good precedent 
for wives ; though Mrs. Porteous was a most devoted wife. 
But it illustrates her independence of character, and scru- 
pulous care for her children. But better than all natural 
gifts was her eminent faith and spirituality. Amid multiplied 
trials and increasing infirmities, as old age came on, her 
faith gathered strength and brightness to the end. When, 
in great bodily weakness, she was put to bed every night by 
a beloved daughter, as they retired from the chamber they 
would hear the feeble voice of the aged saint singing her own 

lullaby, — 

" My faith looks up to thee, 
Thou Lamb of Calvary, 
Saviour divine!" 

Next to Mary was Thomas, the eldest son. After study- 



24 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

ing medicine in Europe, he returned, and at once command- 
ed an extensive practice in his native town. As a physician 
he was eminent for his skill, and soundness of judgment. 
But he was more than a good physician. He was a man 
of large and varied accomplishments, who in any society 
would at once command attention and excite interest by the 
ease of his manner and the intelligence of his conversation. 
He was a superior scholar. As president of the trustees of 
Beaufort College, he was eminently useful in fostering and 
shaping the educational interests of the community. He 
was twice married, and left children by both marriages. 
Among them is the beloved Robert W. Fuller, who succeeded 
his uncle Richard in the pastorate of the Beaufort church. 

Dr. Thomas Fuller was, before the war, one of the wealthi- 
est cotton-planters on the Carolina seaboard ; his excellent 
judgment and business-habits insuring success here, as in his 
profession. With affluence at his command, he retired lajgely 
from the practice of medicine, and spent the summer usually 
in travel. His agreeable manners and great intelligence 
made him a favorite everywhere. He was the only one of 
the family who retained his membership in the Episcopal 
Church. In the latter portion of his life he worshipped as 
frequently in the Baptist Church as in his own. The war 
which broke in 1861 on the Carolina coast was a rude shock 
to a life like this. It sent the wealthy planter as a refugee 
to Greenville, S.C., where he gradually sunk under the 
change of life and the excitement of the times. With his 
family around him, and his aged sister Mary, to whom he 
was tenderly attached, as a ministering angel at his bedside, 
the beloved physician fell asleep in Jesus. 

Harriet B. Fuller, the next daughter, was one of those 
saintly women who to the love of Mary added the activity 
of Martha, and, with the spirituality of Madame Giryon, com- 
bined the practical benevolence of Madame Feller. We re- 
member the impression on two young men in the family made 



THE FAMILY. 25 

by that devoted life. She never married. There was no 
order of deaconesses in the church in Beaufort ; but she 
was virtually its deaconess, like Phebe, the servant of the 
church at Cenchrea, supplying those humble but necessary 
offices in the general oversight of the house of God, and the 
tasteful arrangement of the adjoining yard. She was active 
in the female prayer-meeting, and a teacher in the colored 
Sunday school, which met in the gallery of the church im- 
mediately after the morning service. In her class was a 
native African woman, known familiarly as "Aunt Judy." 
She was an earnest Christian ; and teacher and pupil, who 
were strongly attached, agreed to make the conversion of 
Richard Fuller, then a successful 3'oung lawyer, the subject 
of constant prayer. When afterwards, on the morning of his 
baptism, the two stood on the banks of the river together, 
" I told you so," whispered Aunt Judy. " I knew the Lord 
would bring him." 

On the death of the mother, Miss Harriet took largely 
her place in the care of the household. When the family 
was broken up by the war, she went with her brother Henry 
to Robertville, S.C., where she soon fell asleep in Jesus. 
She lived so constantly in pra} T er, that, in the preparation of 
her body for burial, her knees were found to have become 
hardened from habitual kneeling, as tradition reports that 
the knees of the beloved John were callous like those of the 
camel. 

The next sister, Elizabeth, was one of the gentlest of her 
sex ; and, like Miss Harriet, she, too, remained single. Her 
life too, like her sister's, was one of singular devotion. 
The two sisters were inseparable in their walks and rides, 
and going to and returning from the house of God. They 
44 were lovely and pleasant in their lives ; and in their death 
they were not divided," as they followed each other at no 
great interval. 

The family was gifted in musical talent. All were good 



2G LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

singers, and most of them fair performers on different instru- 
ments. Strangers visiting the church would ask, after ser- 
vice, what beautiful voice was that which they distinguished 
above all. We never heard Jenny Lind ; but the famous 
Swede could hardly have surpassed some notes of this won- 
derful singer. We have never, before or since, heard a voice 
like it. It combined the softness and delicacy of the flute, with 
the most perfect modulation in the highest notes. It was a 
beautiful accompaniment to the air, which penetrated every 
part of the house, and touched every heart with its melody. 
Hers was a timid, sensitive nature, liable to great depression ; 
but " at evening-time it was light." Some music of heaven, 
such as her sainted father heard, must have floated around 
the daughter ; for she died repeating passage after passage 
of the most comforting and glorious promises of the Bible. 

Frances, the next sister, was married to Mr. Lewis Sams, 
an esteemed deacon of the Baptist Church. Her earlier life 
was one of unselfish devotion to her sisters and their chil- 
dren, — a devotion so pure and constant, that, to this da}', her 
memory is cherished as that of a second mother. Few more 
loving hearts ever blessed this world by their passage through 
it. Her nature was tinged with melancholy. A thunder- 
storm, or even the sound of the sea-breeze in the Venetian 
blinds, would fill her with sadness. Her husband died first, 
and she soon followed him. As with Bmryan's pilgrim, 
Desponclenc}^, the last words were, "Farewell, night! wel- 
come, day ! " She, too, emerged from every shadow into the 
light and gladness of her heavenly home. 

Col. William Fuller was the next in the family. He was a 
soldier in early life under Gen. Jackson on the frontier, and 
for many years a reckless, dissipated man of the world. It 
is said that the father on his death-bed, in taking leave of 
the family, referred to William, who was probably absent at 
the time: "You are all in Christ but William; but God 
will bring him." Prophetic words. Years afterwards, dur- 



THE FAMILY. 27 

ing the ministry of the Rev. Mr. Graham, when there was 
little or no religious interest in the communit}', that Spirit 
which comes like the wind we cannot tell whence, and like 
the wind goes we cannot tell where, moved upon the heart 
of the prodigal, and brought him with the rest to Christ. 
There was much of ' ' the meekness and gentleness of Christ ' ' 
in him, in marked contrast to the wildness and waywardness 
of his early life. He lived and died an honored member and 
deacon of the church in Beaufort. 

Of Middleton, whose name occurs in the manuscript of the 
father's experience, we have no record. His recovery as a 
child from almost hopeless illness is mentioned by the father 
as one of the first things that led him to Christ. He must 
have died in early manhood ; and we may with good reason 
believe that the child of so many pikers was also a child of 
God, and a joint-heir, with the rest of this family, of ever- 
lasting life. 

The next in the family was Charlotte, afterwards Mrs. 
Lucius Cuthbert. As Richard and herself were the next to 
each other in the family, so they were more alike than any 
two of the children. The same strength of mind, cheerful- 
ness of temper, and energy of character, marked them both. 
Her dear Bible is marked all over with her own pencil-notes, 
many of these superior in judiciousness of thought, and origi- 
nality of expression, to many commentaries. The charisma- 
ta, the miraculous gifts of the first Christians, are probably 
latent in every child of God. In several remarkable in- 
stances, the foresight of this servant of Christ as to future 
events was almost distinctly prophetic. At the beginning 
of the war, almost the whole white population of Beaufort 
left the place : their property passed into the hands of stran- 
gers, and they themselves, inmost cases, soon passed away 
from the earth. The Rev. Lucius Cuthbert was at this 
time pastor of the Baptist church in Aiken, S.C. This 
devoted son, and minister of Christ, offered his mother the 



28 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

parsonage as a home. "The Lord will provide" was her 
motto through life ; and there was a sweet and literal illus- 
tration of this in her finding this asylum in the parsonage at 
Aiken. Here she lived in comparative quiet during the 
stormy clays of the war. From the windows of her parlor 
she was a witness of a sharp cavaky-fight which took place 
towards the close of the war, in the streets of Aiken, be- 
tween Wheeler and Kilpatrick. She was probably the calm- 
est soul in the whole village. When urged the next day to 
go over to Augusta, as a renewal of the engagement was 
expected, " No," she said, " God can and will keep me 
where I am:" and, pointing to some Confederate wagons 
passing out of town, "See!" she said; "the battle is 
over." Kilpatrick was retreating on Columbia. " I have 
lost everything," she said, — " my property, friends, home ; 
but my faith in my God was never so assured as now." We 
have seen strong men, in conversation with her, bowed, and 
weeping like children at the force of her remarks. She 
loved to write upon small pieces of paper passages of 
Scripture to send to her children and friends. During her 
last illness in Augusta, Ga., she frequently sent these pre- 
cious and comforting missives to Dr. Turpin, an esteemed 
friend, and deacon of the church in that place, who was at 
the same time on his own death-bed. As the end came, she 
showed her characteristic faith. When asked if all was well, 
calmly and promptly she said, " He who keeps the universe 
can keep me." Turning her dear head once or twice on the 
pillow, she was gone. The post had come for her, as for 
another of the pilgrims, and said that " the Master was not 
willing that she should be so far from him any longer." The 
simple inscription on her tomb in the cemetery at Augusta is, 

" Though He slay me, yet will I trust Him." 

Henry Middleton Fuller was the 3-oungest of the family. 
Richard and Henry grew up together as boys, were insepara- 



THE FAMILY. 29 

bie in their studies and sports, and strongly attached to each 
other through life. Henry, like his brother Dr. Thomas 
Fuller, studied medicine, first in Philadelphia under Dr. 
Rush, and then in Edinburgh, Scotland. Returning to Beau- 
fort, he was associated in practice with his older brother. 
By skill in his profession, and the good management of his 
inherited property, he lived in easy circumstances at the 
dear old home in Beaufort. He, too, sought and found the 
Lord, and was baptized with his wife, after a -close study 
of the Scriptures, into the fellowship of the Baptist Church. 
He was one of those physicians, who, after ministering to 
the bod} r of a patient, could very skilfully apply the balm 
of Grilead to the soul. As a master, he was very careful 
in his arrangements for the comfort and religious privileges 
of his servants. They loved him as a friend. Their prayer- 
meetings he often conducted himself. We remember his 
account of one of these meetings at the house of an old 
negro named Peter. "Peter," he said, " made one of the 
most touching prayers I ever heard. ' Heavenly Father,' 
he prayed, ' come and visit us ; and if, dear Master, the 
house be too poor for you to come in, just pass by the door, 
Master, and smile on us, and it will be enough.' " 

He was a man of singularly sweet temper, as well as large 
and varied accomplishments. He could lead in conversation 
on an} r subject, while his modesty and tact never made this 
pre-eminence offensive. He was a very skilful musician. 
Few professional performers could draw out such tones from 
the flute or guitar. Many a summer evening the neighbors 
would come to their windows to hear the sweet sounds that 
came from the parlor or piazza of the Fuller mansion. It 
was Dr. Henry's magic flute, with the accompaniment of 
Elizabeth Fuller's voice. 

With a strong mind he united the tender sensibilities of a 
woman. The war came as a very rough experience to such 
a character. A refugee from place to place, he often sighed 



30 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

for the comfort and quietness of that refined home. After 
the war he visited his brother Richard in Baltimore, who, as 
the stronger character, tried very tenderly to shield him from 
trouble. But living in sight of the old home he had lost, 
with the death (by drowning) of his 3 T oungest, the darling 
of his heart, and the death soon afterwards of the eldest 
son, who, a few years before, had taken the first honor in a 
large class at Princeton, N.J., his health suddenly failed; 
and in peace at last, with the prayer, which was singularly 
answered, that he might pass away on the sabbath day, 
this beautiful character passed away like a star fading into 
the light of heaven. Richard Fuller could well say with 
David in his lament for Jonathan, "I am distressed for 
thee, my brother Jonathan : very pleasant hast thou been 
unto me : thy love to me was wonderful, passing the love of 
women." 



EABLT LIFE. 31 



CHAPTER IV. 

EARLY LIFE. 

" The childhood shows the man, 
As morning shows the day." 

RICHARD, the next to the youngest in this family, was 
born in Beaufort, S.C., in April, 1804. 
Some of the greatest names in history were distinguished 
at first by little or no precocity of genius. Dr. Hanna 
relates of Dr. Chalmers, that he was at first rather behind 
the average in the class. Guthrie records, in his Autobiog- 
raphy, that his first ambition at school was to thrash any boy 
that questioned his physical superiority ; and he attained 
pre-eminence in that line. We have no record of any early 
triumphs of young Fuller as a scholar. He had a fine 
physique, a good constitution, an excellent appetite and 
digestion, — no inconsiderable helps to genius itself at the 
start. As to his belligerent propensities, we do not know 
that they carried him, as a boy, so far as Guthrie ; though 
one of his sisters who went to the same school tells that 
the master, Mr. McDonald, had to resort to some extraor- 
dinary methods to restrain his original and sometimes refrac- 
tory pupil. As a boy and 3'oung man he excelled in field 
sports and athletic exercises. With their bows and arrows 
Richard and Henry were as great experts as two Indians. 
Many a squirrel pla3'ing in the magnolias at Sheldon, msmy 
a red-headed woodpecker (Picus major) hammering up in 
the branches for his worm, was reached by the arrows of 



32 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

the young sportsmen. So with their guns in partridge or 
woodcock (Scolopax rusticola) shooting : they were among 
the best marksmen in the whole neighborhood. 

They tell of a famous shot Richard once made with his 
rifle from the rear piazza of the house in Beaufort. The 
turkey-buzzards (vultures) are very useful scavengers in the 
Southern cities. One of these birds, at the time referred to, 
was perched on the chimney of a neighboring house for 
warmth or observation. The town laws against shooting 
in certain limits were not always rigidly enforced. At any 
rate, the temptation was irresistible ; and, though a good 
long shot across one or two intervening lots, to the crack 
of young Fuller's rifle down went the buzzard. An aged 
lady, who was ill at the time in her chamber in the house, was 
horrified at a grizzly, fluttering spectre coming down the 
chimney, and leaping, in the midst of a cloud of soot and 
dust, into her bedroom. It was the vulture, not, as Poe 
sings of his raven, 

"Tapping gently at the chamber-door," 

but with broken wing rushing like a thunderbolt down the 
chimney, frightening the old lady, Mrs. H., nearly to death, 
as if some evil spirit, sure enough, were pouncing upon 
her. The large chimney, and open fireplace, and Fuller's 
rifle, accounted for the phenomenon. 

Years afterwards, when broken down by hard work, and 
ordered by his physician to lay aside his books, he would 
turn to these field-sports for recuperation. He loved the 
society of the .young ; and, taking one or two boys with him, 
they were off, with guns and dogs, for a tramp through 
the fields and woods. Let a partridge whir out of the grass, 
or a dove winnow the air overhead, or a peregrine-falcon 
dart by at his prey, and that quick e} T e and ready hand 
would stop their flight at once. Before another gun was 
lifted his was fired and down to be reloaded, and the next 



EARLY LIFE. 33 

moment the sportsman off like a falcon himself. On one of 
these hunts he called for a halt, rested the stock of his gun 
on the shoulder of one of his companions, and with pencil 
and paper took note of some thought or argument that at 
the moment occurred to him to be used as a shot for Bishop 
England or Dr. Wajland. In these field-exercises he devel- 
oped the fine physique which afterwards, at the bar or in 
the pulpit, gave him such aid and leverage for the delivery 
of an argument or the preaching of a sermon. 

The Beaufort College, or high school, was founded about 
the close of the last century. Its origin is associated with 
the name of Dr. Holcombe, one of the Baptist pioneers in 
that section. Dr. Holcombe, writing from Philadelphia in 
1812, when he was settled as pastor of the First Baptist 
Church in that city, in one of a series of published letters 
speaks of this institution : — 

"Whilst I lived at Euhaw (not far from Beaufort) I had the 
honor to become a member, and the president, of the Beaufort Dis- 
trict Society, formed for the encouragement of literature, and instru- 
mental in conferring existence on the Beaufort College. It is not 
without pleasure I add that the legislature of South Carolina en- 
rolled my bumble name on the list of the first trustees of this insti- 
tution. The edifice ranks high among the ornaments of the city of 
Beaufort," —Letters, p. 52. Philadelphia, 1812. 

The building stood on the river-front, near the outskirt of 
the town. The college was afterwards removed to a more 
central location in the town ; while the old site became a 
favorite pla3 T ground for the Beaufort boys. The elder 
Brantly , who succeeded the Rev. Mr. Cook as pastor of the 
Beaufort church, was one of the first presidents of this col- 
lege. Dr. Brantly himself had graduated at the South- 
Carolina College under the presidency of the distinguished 
Maxcy, one of the most learned and eloquent men of the 
day. The schools of that day were, of course, not as 
thoroughly equipped as our common schools and higher 



34 LIFE OF BICHARD FULLER. 

institutions now are. But, while the masses were not as 
well instructed as they are now, individuals who had capa- 
city and advantage could lay a better foundation for a thor- 
ough education in the less crowded and hurried progress of 
the course. From the reputation of Dr. Brantly, the strong 
attachment that lasted through life between teacher and 
pupil, and the familiarity with the classics shown by Richard 
Fuller in his writings and addresses, we can form some idea 
of the advantages of his early training, and of his improve- 
ment of them. 

Teacher and pupil were afterwards associated as brethren 
in Christ, and co-workers in the ministry. They often 
worked together in Charleston in meetings of great interest 
and power. When Dr. Brantly fell at his post under the 
double duties and heavy armor which he had to bear as 
president of the Charleston College and pastor of the Bap- 
tist Church, his former pupil, then pastor of the Beaufort 
church, was sent for to preside over the memorial services. 
After an admirable sermon on the nature and value of 
intrepid faith from the text, " But none of these things 
move me, neither count I my life clear unto myself, that I 
may finish my course with joy," he read a sketch of the life 
and labors of the honored dead ; and the early association 
of the two gave to the occasion a peculiar interest and 
sacredness. 



HARVARD COLLEGE. 35 



CHAPTER V. 

HARVARD COLLEGE. 

11 A little learning is a dangerous thing : 
Drink deep, or taste not the Pierian spring." 

JUDGE CLAY, whose name occurs so frequently in the 
manuscript of Mr. Thomas Fuller, had, on his conver- 
sion, and entrance into the ministr3 r , settled in Boston as 
the successor of Dr. Stillman. There was probably some 
connection between this event and the son of his friend and 
brother in Christ following him to Boston, as he afterwards 
followed him from the bar to the pulpit. But the advantage 
of a course at Harvard was fully appreciated, and deter- 
mined young Fuller and his advisers to select this institu- 
tion as his Alma Mater. Accordingly our student left 
Beaufort in the summer of 1820, and, after stopping a short 
time at Sullivan's Island, took a coasting-vessel for Boston. 
In those days, before the use of steamers and railroads, 
journeys that are now accomplished in a few hours or days 
extended into weeks and months. Sitting on the rocks at 
Watch Hill, opposite the Montauk Light, in the summer of 
1871, Dr. Fuller, after looking wistfully out to sea for some 
time, turned to a friend at his side, and said, " Over those 
waves, years ago, I was sailing in a sloop from Charleston, 
a miserable, homesick boy ! " 

But the homesick youth, on reaching Boston, and passing 
his examination at Cambridge, was soon fairly and success- 
fully at work. He was just sixteen years old, — a very 



36 LIFE OF BICHAEJD FULLER. 

early age at which to enter an institution like Harvard, 
and a proof that his progress and scholarship in Beaufort 
must have been more than respectable. He soon came to 
the front rank in a large and gifted class. Some of that 
class are now living, and filling positions of eminence and 
honor in the various literary and professional walks of life. 
They have sent some very valuable letters as to their class- 
mate ; and these will be the best contribution to this 
chapter. 

The following note from Mr. Harris, the present secretary 
to the faculty, shows the college-record : — 

Harvard College, Cambridge, Mass., June 29, 1877. 
Eichard Fuller entered Harvard College in September, 1820, and 
remained two years and one term; that is, until the Christmas vaca- 
tion of 1822. At the exhibition in October, 1822, he took part in a 
Greek dialogue, — a fact which proves him to have been a good 
scholar. On June 28, 1824, the college faculty voted, that " Fuller, 
who has been absent the last five terms on account of ill health, be 
recommended for a degree." This was unusual action, and shows 
that Fuller's standing with the faculty was very high. His class 
was the class of 1824. 

The venerable librarian of Harvard writes, under date of 
July 5, 1877 : — 

I knew the Kev. Eichard Fuller. He was the best scholar in his 
class. About the middle of his senior year he was obliged to leave 
on account of ill health. But the faculty gave him his degree when 
the class graduated in 1824. He was never in the Law School here. 
He left Cambridge entirely when he went off in his senior year. 

I shall be glad if a copy of his Life, if published, be sent to the 
library of Harvard, where he was educated, and on which he reflected 
so much honor afterwards. 

I am respectfully yours, 

John Languor Sibley. 

P. S. — I am almost blind, but trust you will make this out. 

The letters which follow are interesting, not only as show- 



HABVAEB COLLEGE. 37 

ing the estimate in which he was held by his classmates, but 
as the expressions of men of high character and stand- 
ing : — 

Stockbridge, Mass., July 9, 1877. 

The Eev. Dr. Fuller belonged to the class of 1824 at Harvard, and 
was my classmate. 

He did not graduate, but left college on account of ill health. 
According to my recollection, he was not distinguished during his 
freshman-year; but in the sophomore and junior years he suddenly 
rose to the top of the class of about eighty young men. 

He astonished us all by his prodigious memory. It was not un- 
common for him to begin and recite, verbatim, page after page of 
John Locke. And if Professor Hedge called upon him first, or among 
the first, there was no more recitation for the rest of us of the lesson : 
Fuller finished it. 

He was a Southerner; but he was not identified with, and did not 
associate with, the other twenty fashionable and fast young South- 
erners in the class. He led somewhat of a separate life from North- 
erners or Southerners, I think. He gave me the impression of an 
amiable, indolent man, until he surprised us by his extraordinary feats 
of memory. I was not in his division, and knew nothing of him as a 
writer. The recollections of him by the class were very pleasant. We 
all were proud of him. He had no enemies. I regret I can detail so 
little of one for whom I came to entertain a profound respect. 
Yery respectfully, 

S. P. Pabkee. 

Appledore, Isles of Shoals, Me., July 29, 1877. 

Fuller was a young man of brilliant talents and great energy. 
He was for a time at the head of our class, but by ill health, owing 
to over-exertion, was obliged to leave college, and took his degree 
afterwards. I remember, that, in composition and recitation, he used 
very figurative language, — possibly more so than any one in our large 
class of about eighty. 

He suffered much from weak eyes. I see him now, with his 
chair turned upside down, and propped up, with a large lamp be- 
tween the legs of the chair, and a blanket wound round them to 
coften the light. The astral-lamp had not then reached Cambridge. 

When in Boston last, he was glad to find me well and prosperous : 
his only regret was that he did not see me a Baptist clergyman. 
Yours very sincerely, 

E. H. Derby. 



y 



38 LIFE OF BICHAED FULLER. 

P. S. — We had parts together, and with Emerson, the brother of 
the poet, in the Greek dialogue, at our first exhibition. We thought 
this a high honor at the time. I think Fuller was Mercury. I was 
the savage. 

Boston, July t, 1877. 
Though our relations were not intimate, our intercourse was 
always friendly, and to myself very agreeable. He was quick of ap- 
prehension, genial in spirit, and had a high relish for humor. I well 
remember the keen zest with which he read Irving' s "Knicker- 
bocker." I had then, as I have ever since had, a strong impression 
of his intellectual ability. In the recitation-room he'was decidedly 
brilliant, evincing there clearness and breadth of comprehension, a 
tenacious memory, energy of thought and utterance, — the whole set 
off with a fine voice, person, and manner. All his literary exercises, 
oral and written, gave promise of the distinction to which, in after- 
life, he attained. Sincerely yours, 

C. T. Thayee. 

Cambridge, July 16, 1877. 

From the beginning he held a fair rank in the class, and was an 
industrious student ; but, owing, perhaps, to a less thorough and 
prolonged training in the preliminary classical studies, he was not so 
distinguished the first year as afterwards. As soon as we entered on 
the higher mathematical and philosophical branches of study, his 
marked superiority of talent showed itself; and at the end of the 
third year he stood first, I think, in the class, — certainly among the 
very highest. It was at this time, for some reason, — ill health, I 
believe, — that he left college, and did not graduate with us, though 
he afterwards obtained his degree. 

His brilliant talent was united with great power of work, with 
close and indefatigable study. He had a wonderful memory, with a 
fluent speech, and would astonish us sometimes with a recitation of 
page after page of Locke or Stewart, — not a mere mechanical reci- 
tation, a recitation by rote, but a recitation clear and accurate, omit- 
ting no point of the author's statements or reasoning, without being 
slavishly confined to the author's language. 

He was not what was called a popular fellow. He was reserved, 
somewhat unsocial, and had few if any intimates even among those 
of his own section and town, of whom we had then a large number. 
His devotion to his studies kept him, perhaps, from college visiting 
and frolicking. 



HABVABD COLLEGE. 39 

During his visits to the North he has called on me two or three 
times within the last ten years, and has been very friendly and pleas- 
ant, full of his anecdotes, and fun with my children. 

We have been told here that his change from the law to the 
ministry was caused by a special experience ; namely, that his success 
at the outset of his career, in obtaining, through adroit management 
and legal technicalities, the acquittal of an atrocious murderer, so 
disgusted him with his profession, that he gave it up, and entered the 
ministry. 

He was certainly a gifted and powerful preacher, whose success, 
however, was due quite as much to his full 'and elaborate preparation 
of thought for his subject as to his readiness of speech. 
I am very respectfully yours, 

Wm. Newell. 

Fkanconia, N.H., July 31, 1877. 

At our entrance into college I think he must have been about 
sixteen years of age. As time passed, he developed a fine, tall, and 
erect figure, apparently vigorous and in excellent health. I recollect 
his speaking once of his practice of giving himself — what seemed to 
me quite unusual — a thorough chest-exercise just before he retired 
to rest at night. His habit of taking generous exercise, with a proba- 
bly sound constitution, contributed to his compact physical frame. 
He was early marked by great energy and decision of character. 
This was shown by the clearness and force of his conversation. 
We were always quite sure that he would have and express a firm 
opinion on all important subjects that came up in this way. And 
not only in speech, but in action, and in every movement, tone, and 
gesture, he exhibited this same characteristic. We had a military 
company, of which he was a member ; and his fine physique and his 
martial precision made him a good soldier, and also, I think, an 
efficient officer of the corps. 

Our class was alphabetically arranged during the recitations and 
readings, and into such divisions and sections as brought him often 
into the same exercises as myself. This gave me an opportunity to 
notice his appearance, and judge him as a scholar. I was impressed 
by his extraordinary promptness and fluency of utterance. I recol- 
lect especially the rare memory he often exhibited. He excelled, on 
this account, in the department of metaphysics. When we were 
studying ''Locke on the Understanding," he would recite page after 
page in the very words of the author. This, when done, as it was, 
in the afternoons of the month of July (for we had then no summer 



40 LIFE OF BICHABB FULLEB. 

vacation), would surprise those of us who felt the depressing effect 
of the intense heat. It was so with him in nearly all the exercises. 
His recitations were hoth ready and intelligent. The professors and 
tutors were then accustomed to address each student by his surname, 
not adding, as at this time, the courteous epithet of " Mr." When 
Fuller was " taken up," we felt sure there would be no failure, no 
" dead set;" but, on the contrary, not infrequently the passage would 
be given without the omission of a single word. When this was not 
practicable, he used such language as showed his thorough under- 
standing of the subject before us. 

His general deportment was correct, and his whole moral stand- 
ing high, which, in those days, helped, in addition to his intellectual 
prominence, to give him that rank as a student which was a sure 
prophecy of his great success in after-life as a minister of Christ. 
Indeed, he was one of the marked, and, as it not seldom proves, 
exceptional instances of the promise of youth in college fulfilled by 
the whole subsequent professional career. 
Yery truly yours, 

A. B. Muzzey. 

These letters — from men of eminence and ability, profes- 
sional and literar} r , men who had every opportunity of know- 
ing their fellow-student — show what he was at Harvard. 
Like field-glasses brought to bear upon a distant object, they 
give a satisfactor} T view of this formative period of his life. 
They show his strong individuality of character, the tireless 
energy which made it with him a lifelong maxim that nothing 
good be accomplished without pains, the culture and scholar- 
ship that drew its inspirations from the songs of Homer, the 
dreams of Plato, the tragedies of Euripides and Sophocles. 
They show, too, the genial temper and versatility of mind 
which could laugh at one moment over the stories of ' ' The 
Knickerbocker," and the next melt into tenderness and tears 
over the exquisite and pathetic pages of ' ' The Sketch- 
Book." 

One of his classmates speaks of his recitations as " set off 
by a fine voice, person, and manner." It is the remark of 
some writer on oratory, that its highest effects can be seen 



HARVARD COLLEGE. 41 

only where the speaker is either remarkably handsome or 
remarkably ugh' ; that mediocrity of appearance was not 
favorable to the greatest triumphs of the art ; and instances 
Mirabeau, whose face, scarred by the small-pox, glared, when 
lit up with passion, like that of a tiger. His hearers were 
frightened into his feelings and convictions. Richard Fuller 
may not have been an extremely handsome man ; but he had 
what was more striking than mere regularity of feature, — 
a noble and commanding presence. His eye and face were 
full of expression ; his figure fully six feet high, and ad- 
mirably proportioned ; his hands and feet of perfect sym- 
metry ; his forehead broad and high, and almost, if not 
quite, as large as Webster's, though differently shaped ; his 
voice susceptible of the most varied and exquisite modula- 
tions. 

When in after-life he became a preacher, and, warming 
in some impassioned passage, he would pass his hand through 
his hair, and shake his head, it was like the thunder-cloud 
above ; while the flashing thought was like the lightning 
beneath. "Did you see the preacher to-night?" said one 
3'oung man to another at an association, commenting on the 
sermon before they went to sleep. "When he passed his 
hand through his hair, and shook his head, I thought the 
Devil had me, sure enough." And 3~et, as the fountains of 
tenderness began to stir, that flashing e}*e would swim with 
tears, and those thunder-tones change into the softest 
whispers. 

His career at Harvard was suddenly closed. He was 
attacked by s}Tnptoms of hemorrhage of the lungs. On the 
seashore off Stonington, in 1871, he spoke of this sharp 
interruption of his studies. "Well do I remember," he 
said, " the sight of the blood on the snow one morning as I 
was going to chapel. Some feeling of that wound in the 
breast I have carried with me through life." Little did the 
multitudes who listened with delight to Mm in after-years 



42 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

imagine how much suffering it often cost him to afford them 
that pleasure. He seldom preached without some reminder 
of that original wound. "I almost envy," he would sa}% 
"these men who can speak for hours without feeling it. 
They have throats of steel." 

In Sprague's "Annals of the American Pulpit " he con- 
tributed a reminiscence of his early teacher and friend, the 
elder Brantly : — 

"In the winter of that year (1823), I was at Cambridge. I was 
suddenly seized with symptoms of so alarming a kind, that the 
physicians hurried me off to Northampton to escape the deadly east 
winds. There, in that beautiful town, I spent some most melancholy 
weeks, — a mere boy, a stranger, reduced by disease, and seemingly 
drawing near to the tomb. For the first time, my mind awaked 
out of her dark oblivious sleep; and, turning from the aspirations 
of literary ambition, I began to think of eternity. Dr. Brantly had 
heard of my sickness, and immediately wrote me a letter, which I 
wish I had preserved. It breathed the tenderest sympathy, and 
reached my very soul with its earnest and pathetic counsels and 
prayers." 

Here is the interruption of his brilliant college- career by 
that "wound in the breast; " but here, too, was the touch 
of a Father's hand, calling him off from mere literary ambi- 
tion to a more excellent way. In Northampton, the scene 
of the life and labors of Jonathan Edwards, the impressions 
of a better life began to dawn in the soul of the invalid 
student, which, by the grace of God, were to result in a life 
and ministry of equal value to the Church. 

His college-clays at Harvard were over ; but through life 
he retained a warm affection for that ancient and noble seat 
of learning. More than once he was an invited and honored 
guest at the annual meetings of the Alumni, contributing to 
the interest of these occasions by those brilliant addresses 
for which he had become famous. 

The Hon. Robert C. Winthrop refers in the following 
note to one of these re-unions : — 



HABVABD COLLEGE. 43 

Brookline, near Boston, July 2, 1877. 
Dr. Fuller was four years before me at Harvard. He took his 
degree in 1824, the year in which I entered the university. I met 
him afterwards at Cambridge, when he came to hear my oration 
before- the Alumni of Harvard, and made a speech himself at the 
dinner at which Everett presided. The speech was printed, I think; 
but I have no copy of it. 

The Hon. Charles Francis Adams writes : — 

Quincy, July 4, 1877. 
His was the class which preceded mine just one year. I do not 
recollect to have seen him more than once or twice; though I have 
an impression left on my mind that he held a high position in the 
estimation of the faculty and of his class, which I gathered from 
such acquaintances of his as I casually met. 

Mr. John C. Pratt of Boston writes of these New-England 
visits : — 

Boston, July 7, 1877. 

I recall as blessed memories these charming visits. He was the 
light and joy of our house. My children loved him. The neighbors 
would gather in my parlor in the evening to listen to his conversa- 
tion. His conversation was always on some religious topic ; but he 
would invest it with the interest of religious romance. All, whether 
Christians or not, enjoyed the feast. Great as he was in the pulpit, 
I think in the home-circle he excelled. I never had so delightful a 
guest under my roof. 

On his first visit to me he came on an invitation of a committee 
of the Alumni of Harvard College. He made a fine address at the 
dinner at Cambridge: so did Gov. Preston of South Carolina. Gov. 
Everett presided. 

I went with Dr. Fuller to his old room at Harvard, which he had 
not visited since he left college. He was, as he always was, "grave 
and gay," — sad as he recounted old memories, and then bright and 
cheerful as he told of his college-scrapes. "See!" said he: "there 
are the very shot-holes where I used to sit and amuse myself with a 
pistol at the mice as they ran across the room." 



44 LIFE OF BICHABD FULLEB. 



CHAPTER VI. 

i 

RETURN HOME. 

" Up, up, my friend ! and quit your books." 

ON his return to Beaufort in 1824, Richard Fuller, fresh 
from the classic fields of Harvard, with the prestige of 
a creditable college-course, was at once a young man of 
mark in the community. We can imagine the welcome 
of the invalid son and brother in that dear family circle, — 
the re-union with Henry, the tears of the sisters, the blessing 
of the parents. With impaired health, he doubtless acted 
as any sensible young man would have done under the cir- 
cumstances, — bade a truce to severe study, while he sought, 
amid scenes he had loved from childhood, the renewal of his 
shattered energies. He carried into these things — every 
healthful exercise and innocent amusement — the same spirit 
and enthusiasm that distinguished him in study. The field- 
sports at Sheldon in the winter ; the woodcock and wild-duck 
(mallard) shooting ; the social gatherings at the neighboring 
places, where Southern hospitality was dispensed on a gen- 
erous scale ; the summer re-unions in Beaufort ; the sails on 
the river ; the walks and drives around " Sams' Point ; " the 
evening parties, when wit sparkled, and music flowed under 
the Southern stars, — all ministered to his convalescence. 

He was always a gentleman, easy in manner, ready in wit, 
brilliant in conversation. In dress he was scrupulously neat. 
He loved horseback-exercise as much as Napoleon did, and 
was an excellent rider. Jonas Singleton, the son of "Aunt 



RETURN HOME. 45 

Jiid}- " (Miss Harriet's scholar), and late deacon of one of 
the colored churches in Augusta, writing of Dr. Fuller, 
whom he had known from bo} T hood, sa}'s, " He was a gen- 
tleman in every respect. At that time " [when a young man] 
" he kept the finest ba}< horse in town, which he used eve^ 
afternoon in a drive or ride round the city." The late Dr. 
Turpin of Augusta, Ga., on the occasional visits of Dr. 
Fuller to that city, used to place at his service his favorite 
riding-horse Dread. "There never was a finer sight," he 
used to say, " than Brother Fuller on Dread." 

With these advantages and equipments, it is not surprising 
to learn that }*oung Fuller was a great favorite with the sex. 
One of his sisters reported some little manoeuvres of his, 
which his biographer must record, — how Richard would get 
her to ask some girls to spend the evening, when, dressing 
himself with great neatness and care, he would stroll out, 
and, after the party had assembled, stroll in and surprise 
them with an eas} T , nonchalant air, as if it were all a matter 
of moonshine ; a little light skirmishing, as to which let him 
that is without sin cast the first stone. 

He was, of course, a susceptible young man, and liable to 
the changing fortunes of all enterprising, adventurous 
natures. Some little check of this kind, the chronicles 
report, once happening to him, with his usual impulsiveness 
he took the first steamer that touched at Beaufort, and sailed 
to parts unknown for change of air and scene. 

He once laughed at a friend of his for a little disappoint- 
ment of the kind in an affair of the heart. The} T were on 
the steamer going to Charleston. It was rough, and " the 
Colonel" (as he was familiarly called) was ver}^ sick. As 
Richard looked at him at the side of the ship, paying the 
usual tribute to Neptune, " It will cure him," said he. "If 
a man is in love, there is nothing like a little sea-sickness to 
take it out of him." Possibly he was speaking from the 
fulness of his own experience as to the curative powers of 



46 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

sea-air. The chronicles, which are our authority in these 
matters, further sa}^, that, when he sailed on the occasion 
of his own little affair, he half playfully called out, " Good- 
by ! you may never see me again." 

"Fare thee well, and if forever, 
Still forever fare thee well." 

But he was soon at home again, if "a sadder and a wiser 
man," yet with no scar of battle visible, and ready for fresh 
adventures, defeats, or triumphs, in these or any fields of 
high ambition. 

In after-life he could be at sea in the roughest weather 
without the least inconvenience. If all the passengers and 
crew were sick, he and the captain could sit at table as usual, 
and laugh at everyboclv. On the principle known to medical 
men, that one attack in some diseases is a safeguard against 
any further attack, that impromptu voyage in the long-ago, 
and its possible experience, may have been the prophylactic 
for him. 



LAW. 47 



CHAPTER VII. 



LAW. 



" The law is a sort of hocus-pocus science, that smiles in your face while it picks 
your pocket ; and the glorious uncertainty of it is of mair use to its professors 
than the justice of it." 

THE law is a science, but not one of the exact sciences. 
It has its facts and foundations in the intuitive convic- 
tions of the human mind, and those common maxims and 
principles, which, being the consent of the people, have been 
accepted as the voice of God. Still the practical adminis- 
tration of the law is so modified by the histoiy of precedents 
and the customs of societj^, that its actual application is like 
the management of a ship at sea : while a matter of calcula- 
tion, it is also a matter shaped by a thousand unforeseen 
contingencies. From the da} T s of Justinian and his Code, 
through all the histoiy of jurisprudence in Europe, and espe- 
eially in England in the settlement of the Magna Charta, to 
its latest enactments and triumphs in our own land, law has 
stood as a hand-maiden of religion in its defence of the 
eternal principles of truth and justice. The sly sarcasm of 
the above quotation, as to what is called the glorious uncer- 
tainty of the profession, refers, not to its principles, but to 
its practical application. 

Still this very uncertaint} 7 , like the contingencies in the 
management of a ship, furnishes the conditions most favora- 
ble for the exercise and development of talent and skill. 
No mere literary life, or pursuit of any of the exact sciences, 
furnishes such a school for the cultivation of those habits of 



48 LIFE OF BICIIABD FULLER. 

self-control, ready tact, and powers of persuasion, which, 
with every lawyer and minister of the gospel, are such 
necessary tools and indispensable qualifications for their 
work. 

In this school it pleased God that our young Harvard 
graduate should receive his training. Paul was brought up 
at the feet of Gamaliel in the theological and legal training 
of the Jew. Tertullian was an advocate, Justin Martyr a 
philosopher, and Augustine a teacher of rhetoric at Milan. 
Dr. Chalmers was at first a schoolmaster, and Guthrie a 
banker. Judge Clay was an eminent practitioner in Savan- 
nah ; and Dr. Joseph Stiles, for so many years a leading 
Presbyterian minister in this country, in the closeness of his 
reasoning, and the naturalness of his manner, showed his 
early legal training. In an age like the present, when scep- 
ticism is seeking to form an alliance, offensive and defensive, 
with science, in its antagonism to the gospel, it is no incon- 
siderable aid which is supplied by training like this for the 
practical work of the minister. 

Richard Fuller had chosen Ms profession, and he entered 
on his preparation for it with the ardor of a young athlete in 
training for the arena. Blackstone and all the great stand- 
ards of English and American law were now pondered as 
diligently as Locke and the classics had been at Harvard. 
Before he was twentj'-one he was admitted to the bar ; and 
though, in the e}'e of the law, himself an infant, he soon 
came into considerable and growing practice. 

The little building which he occupied as his office was in 
front of his brother's (Dr. Thomas Fuller) residence, on "the 
Bay." That brother, who had aided in his education, and 
who through life regarded him with feelings of mingled ten- 
derness and pride, probably built this office for him : at any 
rate, it stood on his land, just on the river-bank, where the 
water, in its ebb and flow, made music for the student at 
work within. The history of this little building is a curious 



LAW. 49 

and interesting one. Richard Fuller, the first occupant, left 
it for the ministry. Mr. Johnson, his associate in the same 
office, left about the same time to enter the Episcopal Semi- 
nary at Alexandria. Stephen Elliott and Mr. Pinckney then 
took it as their law-office. The first was the late distin- 
guished bishop of Georgia : the second is rector now of 
Grace Episcopal Church in Charleston. Thomas Fuller (a 
nephew of Richard Fuller) and James Elliott (a brother of 
the bishop) then occupied it in the practice of law ; but 
the}*, too, soon left it for the ministiy. Dr. Pinckney, in a 
recent memorial discourse on the death of Rev. Mr. Elliott, 
states these facts, and adds, "We doubt whether any law- 
office in the land has a more peculiar history." Perhaps 
the prayers of Miss Harriet and ' ' Aunt Judy ' ' had as much 
to do with it as an}' earthly cause. 

Man}^ of the judges and lawyers in South Carolina at that 
time were men of eminence in the profession, while some of 
them had acquired a national reputation. Among the judges 
were Butler, Withers, O'Neal : among the lawyers, J. L. 
Petigru, one of the ablest counsellors and pleaders in the 
country ; II. S. Legare, famous for his scholarship and learn- 
ing ; Henry Baile}', afterwards attornej'-general of South 
Carolina, a man whose clear head was balanced by a noble 
and generous heart ; R. W. Barnwell, afterwards president 
of the South-Carolina College at Columbia, a man of singu- 
lar purity and elevation of character ; De Treville, the keen 
and successful practitioner ; and Barnwell and Albert Rhett, 
the masters of that fiery eloquence which could sway either 
a jury or a political assembly. Such were the contempora- 
ries and professional competitors of young Fuller. Most of 
them were older and more experienced than he ; but he soon 
ranked with the foremost of them in common law, and ex- 
celled most, if not all, in criminal practice. 

Hon. Mr. Presslej-, an eminent member of the Charleston 
(S.C.) bar, writes : — 



50 LIFE OF BICHABD FULLER. 

Charleston, S.C., January, 1877. 
Once I heard Judge Butler say this: "The lawyers on Fuller's 
circuit say, ' He is a great preacher ; but he was not much as a law- 
yer.' They say so now; but I tell you, when I first went on that cir- 
cuit as judge, he was head and shoulders above them all." This 
reference must have been to the time when he was about to retire 
from the profession, since Judge Butler probably did not go on that 
circuit before 1833-34. My first knowledge of Dr. Fuller was in 1846, 
in Charleston; from which time I date the beginning of a very happy 
life. Affectionately yours, 

B. C. Pressley. 

The qualities of the student were developed in the lawyer, 
— patient work, thorough preparation, fertility of resources, 
and, when the hour of action came, full command of all, 
with the aid of superior logic, a warm imagination, and an 
admirable address. 

" A singular statement" (says Dr. Crawford, the late president of 
Georgetown College, Kentucky, and once pastor in Charleston) " was 
once made to me by Mr. James L. Petigru, whose own fame is 
national. Mr. Petigru expressed surprise at the powers of pathos 
possessed by Mr. Fuller as a preacher: 'for,' said he, ' I practised at 
the same bar with Fuller six years ; and, though we all regarded him as 
a most formidable antagonist, he never attempted in the slightest de- 
gree to work on the feelings. He was a sharp, close, hard attorney, 
never leaving a flaw in his own pleading, and sure to detect and take 
advantage of any defect in his adversary's.' The fact may be, that 
the young lawyer had prescribed for himself a rigid course of legal 
discipline as the foundation of future success, leaving his career as an 
advocate to be developed by circumstances as they should arise." — 
Memphis (Term.) Baptist, 1867. 

The following case shows his readiness to meet an emer- 
gency. Mr. Beaubien, a French Canadian, had, years ago, 
settled in Beaufort. He filled the important Office of dan- 
cing-master to the tow T n, and was altogether such an intelli- 
gent and agreeable person, that he numbered some of the 
first people of the place among his associates. He became 
involved in a lawsuit affecting his title to his property. 



LAW. 51 

Richard Fuller was his lawyer. The case came on at 
Coosawhatchie, a small town some twent}" miles from Beau- 
fort. In the progress of the case, the presence of a certain 
witness was found necessary to complete the chain of evi- 
dence for Beaubien ; but how to secure this witness, at some 
considerable distance from the place, with no railroad or 
telegraph to accelerate his movement, was the difficulty. At 
very short notice, the young law}-er impressed a swift mes- 
senger and a relay of fleet horses. The witness was secured 
in time for the court next morning, and Beaubien' s case was 
won. This case and its conduct made Mr. Beaubien a life- 
long friend of his lawyer. The Frenchman was no regular 
attendant of any church in Beaufort. He had the reputation 
of being both a free-thinker and a free-liver ; but, when 
Richard Fuller was preaching afterwards in Beaufort, he fre- 
quently attended the Baptist church. The mercurial French- 
man was not, as a general thing, equal to the whole service ; 
but, just before the sermon commenced, he would quietly slip 
into one of the rear pews, and just as mysteriously disappear 
at its conclusion. 

But more full of tragic interest is the ' ' reminiscence ' ' with 
which we close this chapter. It is the more interesting as a 
piece of autobiography bearing on this critical period of his 

life. 

REMINISCENCE. 

" Dr. South says that a reminiscence is 'the retrieving of a thing 
at present forgot, or but confusedly remembered ; ' and as, somehow 
or other, the communication in 'The Herald,' signed J. L. R., has 
retrieved and freshened in my memory a very singular and instructive 
passage in a young lawyer's experience, I hope I shall be forgiven if 
I supply what my friend from Columbia did not know of the trial to 
which he refers. 

" That case is now on record in the printed volumes of the South- 
Carolina Reports, as ' The State vs. F. R. McK. ; ' and it established 
for the first time in that State the great Magna-Charta principle, 
that no man shall have his life twice put in jeopardy by a legal trial 
on the same indictment. 



52 LIFE OF BICHABD FULLER. 

" The facts are briefly these: Across the river, on whose bank the 
fair town of Beaufort then rejoiced in the most salubrious sea-breezes 
and the sweetest groves of myrtle and orange, there stood an old but 
still substantial mansion, which had come by inheritance to two 
brothers. David McK., the elder of these brothers, was a stout man, 
of intemperate habits and a very sinister expression of countenance. 
The younger, Francis E. McK., was effeminate, delicate, and seem- 
ingly a most inoffensive and amiable gentleman. He was, too, rather 
handsome, with those light blue eyes, which I then supposed indi- 
cated a mild temper, but which, as I have since discovered, are 
always the organs of the most passionate and violent natures. Near 
the residence of these brothers a negro was found dead one evening ; 
and it was evident that he had been killed by the strokes of a paddle 
which was lying by his side, broken and bloody. On the morning of 
that day this negro had been seen conveying Francis, his young 
master, across the river in a canoe, and the murder had been com- 
mitted near the landing. By the laws of South Carolina, the murder 
of a slave was a capital crime ; and Francis McK. was at once arrested, 
and lodged in jail. The whole community was horrified by this atro- 
cious deed. No one was more shocked than the young lawyer of 
whom I am writing; and, when sent for, his entire nature revolted 
from the thought of undertaking such a defence. In civil litigation 
he had always refused a retainer where a client was, in his judgment, 
seeking to do wrong. In criminal prosecutions, however, it appeared 
to him that a defendant had a right to have a fair trial. Lord Erskine 
took this ground in the celebrated trial of Tom Paine for his infidel 
publications; and it seemed to our young barrister, that, while a 
lawyer should identify himself only with a client whom he believed 
innocent, he had no right to refuse his professional counsel to any 
man, and thus to render it certain that he would be convicted without 
a hearing. With these views he entered the cell, where he found 
the unhappy youth closely confined, and awaiting the action of the 
grand jury. The prisoner was seemingly overwhelmed with a sense 
of his condition, and his tears wrung the very soul of his visitor. 
Although he appealed to Heaven for his innocence, and assured his 
counsel that the colored servant was a great favorite of his, yet he 
believed him guilty, and urged him to confess his crime, and thus 
relieve his conscience at least from the additional load of falsehood. 
The youth protested that he was incapable of such a deed, and 
charged it upon his brother, alleging circumstances which were cer- 
tainly very suspicious. The lawyer left him somewhat shaken, but 
still fearing that he was the real culprit. 



LAW. 53 

i The next morning, however, the accused produced evidence of 
innocence which at once acquitted him in the eyes of this professional 
tyro ; which, in fact, so elevated him in his esteem, that, instead of 
abhorring, he positively admired and almost envied him. Before I 
unfold the sort of proof which thus wrought an entire revolution in 
his views and feelings, I must beg my readers to remember that the 
person closeted with the prisoner was yet ' an infant,' according to 
the law. He had left Harvard College and been admitted to the bar 
before he was of age. While pursuing his studies at Cambridge, he 
had been almost a hermit. Of the sex, so far as the flesh and blood 
concrete was concerned, his vision had been confined to the hags who 
ministered in the college-chambers, and who are always chosen for 
their hideousness. But poring over the warm, glowing pages of 
Ovid, Theocritus, Anacreon, Moschus, and other romantic poets, his 
imagination had revelled in all sorts of absurd dreams about love; 
had been entranced in very seductive and witching reveries about 
a mystery so tender, paradisiacal, pure, purifying, and so forth. To 
be loved, was to him, at that time, a sort of apotheosis. Judge, 
then, what were his emotions when his fair-haired client put into 
his hands a packet of letters — most exquisite compositions — ad- 
dressed to him by a girl in North Carolina to whom he was about 
to be married! Every line, every word, in these epistles, breathed a 
devotion, a tenderness, a confidence, so deep and touching, that our 
young advocate read them over and over with unsophisticated interest 
and sympathy. 

" The effect may easily be conceived. Could a man who was the 
object of a sentiment so elevated, so true, so almost adoring, be a 
vile felon stained with blood? His whole being rose up and repelled 
the very thought as treason against humanity. No : it was impos- 
sible. He was innocent; he was wronged. The strongest sympa- 
thies of our nature drew him to this noble, persecuted, injured youth; 
and he resolved then and there, that, if any efforts of his could rescue 
and save him, he should be saved and rescued. His soul bled, too, 
for that amiable lady. The cause was her cause ; and what joy to be 
permitted to remove this dreadful charge from one she loved, and 
thus give to her peace and happiness ! 

"It was evident to his mind that the elder brother, a monster of 
vice, had cruelly murdered the poor unoffending slave, and wished to 
fix the deed upon a youth most amiable, most lovely, loving, and 
beloved. Was ever such a wretch? Could the darkest calendar of 
guilt furnish a parallel to this heinous and abominable depravity? 

" The case came on in Coosawhatchie, and the solicitor for the 



54 LIFE OF BICHARD FULLER. 

State certainly made out what others seemed to regard as a very 
damaging argument. The defendant's counsel saw the effect on the 
judge and on the jury. But, for his part, he listened to the indict- 
ment and evidence and opening address with a calm confidence which 
nothing could disturb. He was, in fact, indignant that suspicion 
should for a moment be cast upon the fair fame of one so young, noble, 
innocent, enshrined and glorified by such an affection. He burned 
with impatience until the State's solicitor had ceased. He could 
scarcely repress his resentment as the prosecutor went on in that 
cool, perfunctory, professional attack upon a youth so injured and 
persecuted, and, when he had finished, exulted that the hour had at 
last come for truth, virtue, innocence, to be openly and triumphantly 
asserted. 

"The defence having been closed, the court adjourned until the 
afternoon, when the State's solicitor was to reply. It so happened, 
however, that this officer overheard some of the jury expressing their 
opinion, and declaring that the accused was not guilty. The conse- 
quence was, that, when his Honor re-ascended the bench, the solicitor 
refused to go on with the trial, and entered a nolle prosequi, saying 
that he would remand the prisoner to jail, and bring him before 
another jury. He was informed, that, in that case, a motion would 
be made for the acquittal and release of the prisoner. The presiding 
judge, however, ruled otherwise ; and the case was thus carried up to 
the Court of Appeals in Columbia. This highest tribunal met in a 
hot, unhealthy season of the year, when to leave the seaboard and 
to travel through the intervening regions was to be exposed to a 
deadly malaria, to 'the country fever,' — a pestilence almost always 
fatal. But what, to our legal martinet, were jungles and fevers 
and diseases? The cause of injured innocence, the happiness of a 
lovely woman, had been committed to his care; and a hundred 
deaths, rather than be perfidious to such sacred trusts. The Appeal 
Court reversed the judgment below. They ordered the panel to be 
discharged. And who can conceive the rapture of our verdant sprig 
of the bar, when he hastened to the dungeon, and bade him go forth, 
and devote his life to the happiness of that sweet girl who so loved 
him, and who, amidst all this long ordeal, had never for a moment 
doubted his innocence. 

" The exulting pleader shook hands with his emancipated client 
at the prison-door, wishing him all sorts of blessedness, and admir- 
ing that high sense of delicacy which prevented him from wounding 
the gratified professional heart by any reference to a fee. Noble 
young man! He comprehended his defender perfectly, and felt that 



LAW. 55 

even an allusion to any mercenary recompense in such a cause would 
have mortified and insulted the disinterested affection of the jurist 
towards him and towards the lady he was about to lead to the altar. 

" Returning home, our lawyer was immediately prostrated by the 
deadly fever which he had braved. Oh that long, wasting, terrible 
disease ! Oh those days and nights which seemed an age of intolera- 
ble anguish, during which the pulses bounded with a madness that 
mocked to scorn the skill of the physician, and the brain glowed with 
a delirious frenzy that portended the quick and inevitable dissolu- 
tion of reason and of life! Again and again was he roused from 
horrid dreams, to see his father, mother, sisters, weeping around the 
bed. Over and over the consulting faculty left the chamber, inform- 
ing the family that death was at hand. My God, how can he ever 
sufficiently adore thy mercy, which, interposed in the last extremity, 
had rescued him from the jaws of the grave? Nor did that mercy only 
deliver him from that horrible pit ; but it then began to set his feet 
upon the rock, and to put a new song into his mouth, even praises 
forevermore. 

" Weeks and months passed before he was restored to health; and 
during those weeks and months, while he little knew what Jesus 
was doing with him, he now sees how, secretly but marvellously, that 
Sovereign Grace which had ' separated him from his mother's womb ' 
was carrying on in his soul a work for which eternity will be too 
short to utter all his gratitude. 

"About a year after his recovery he took up a North-Carolina 
paper; and the first passage which attracted his eye was a procla- 
mation by the governor of that State, offering a large reward for 
the apprehension of Francis R. McK., who had murdered his wife, — 
the lady above mentioned, — and had fled from the pursuit of justice. 

"A few years afterwards, he was attending on the sabbath a small 
country church, and heard a man named Gross giving some account 
of the Florida war, from which he had lately returned. In the course 
of his remarks the soldier said, ' The most strange, sharp, shocking 
sound I ever heard was that caused by a bullet striking and crashing 
into a man's skull. I heard it in our first battle with the Indians at 
the Everglades. The very first shot fired by the enemy, lying in 
ambush, pierced the forehead of the man next to me, and his brains 
were scattered in my face.' — 'Did you know the man?' carelessly 
inquired one of the company. 'I knew him well, and a greater 
villain never lived. He was from your town, and his name was 
Francis R. McK.'" 



56 LIFE OF BICHABD FULLER. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

MARRIAGE. 

"Faith in womankind 
Beats with his "blood, and trust in all things high." 

RESPECT for woman is evidence of good character, and 
one means of its improvement. Love for Iris mother 
and sisters, and appreciation of ladies' society, was charac- 
teristic of Richard Fuller from his youth. Through life he 
carried with him a high and chivalrous sense of the superi- 
ority of the sex in all the nobler qualities of our nature. 

Strong natures are attracted by their opposites, gentle- 
ness and grace, as positive electricity by negative. There 
are two phases of womanhood, and Martha and Mary may 
be regarded as types of these, — the practical and the con- 
templative. The first furnishes the women who rule a 
household with Martha, or preside over the wards of a hos- 
pital with Florence Nightingale, or march even at the head 
of an army with Joan of Arc. The second represents the 
women who sit with Mary at the feet of Jesus, or, with Anne 
Judson, shed an air of romantic interest over the sternness 
of missionary life, or, with Felicia Hemans, sing the tender 
lyrics that echo everywhere in the world. 

In the sphere of woman's influence both of these phases 
are necessary to the completeness and harmony of life, as 
both prose and poetry are necessary in the world of litera- 
ture, and flowers and fruits in the realm of nature. 

Some women are gifted with a combination of both traits, 



MABBIAGE. 57 

without the undue predominance of either ; and this was the 
gift of God to Richard Fuller in his marriage. The follow- 
ing is the record from the family Bible : — 

Kichard Fuller married to 
Charlotte Bull, daughter of 
James and Axx Stuart, 

August, 1831. 

At this date he was a law3~er in full practice in Beaufort. 
He was twentj-seven years of age. The enthusiasm of 
youth had been tempered by experience, and judgment as 
well as affection was exercised in this union. A man of 
action and impulse, he needed a more reflective nature to 
give balance to his life. This was the gift of God to him, — 
the prudent counsel to moderate enthusiasm, the patient 
spirit to calm the fever of excitement, the gentle hand to 
nurse and soothe in sickness, the quiet presence to order 
the household, where, as with machine^, the ease of the 
movement is the evidence of its perfection. Hers, too, was 
the skilful hand to keep in order the study, the arms and 
equipment of the soldier, and, as a loving amanuensis, to 
transcribe for the press the bold dashes that were written, 
cur rente calamo, in unintelligible hieroglyphics to other eyes. 

Three daughters were the fruit of this union. 

On the birth of their first child, Bessie, as we all knew 
and called her, the father wrote the following account of it to 
Dr. James Stuart, his wife's brother. The birth of a child 
is no new thing under the sun ; but this letter will be found 
to be both novel and interesting. 

Beaufort, May 2, 1834. 
My dear Cousix, — Knowing that it will be most pleasing intelli- 
gence to you all, I send this letter, written hastily and briefly, to 
say that I have become the father of a most charming little daughter. 
She was born last night between two and three o'clock. The mother 
and child are both quite well and cheerful. My heart runs over 
with the fulness of its gratitude to that God who is every day mak- 



58 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

ing his goodness to pass before me. When I look at my heart, and 
see so much vileness, and then to my past life, — so little done, and 
that little so defiled, — I stand amazed amidst perpetually renewed 
blessings, and can only exclaim, "Is this the manner of men, O 
Lord God ? " 

I need not tell you my feelings when I looked upon so interesting 
an object. The feelings, the joy, of the parent, were almost absorbed 
in the emotions of the Christian. "What manner of child shall 
this be?" pressed powerfully upon my heart; what the destinies of 
its life ? Are care and sorrow and sin — But I forgot these in that 
tremendous question, "Where will this immortal spend eternity? 
Once it hath breathed, it will never die: it will survive this world 
and these heavens, and live when sun and stars have been quenched, 
and this earth and its history shall have become things only of memo- 
ry. What is the birth of a transient world to that of an undying 
soul ? As I receive this sweet being (so fearfully and wonderfully 
made) into my arms, G-od seems to address me in the language of 
Pharaoh's daughter: "Take this child and nurse it forme, and I 
will give thee thy wages." Pray for me that I may be faithful, and 
that this child may indeed grow up in the fear and nurture and 
admonition of the Lord. Anxious as I felt about its birth, there is 
another birth, about which (both for our children and selves) we 
should be more deeply concerned. How few think of this ! and yet 
who will compare them? — one the nativity of weakness and sorrow, 
the other of eternal glory : the one makes us heirs of sin and mor- 
tality; the other insures us that life and immortality which are 
brought to light in the gospel. 

Your mother and the family are all well, and unite in love. 

Your affectionate brother, K. Fuller. 

P. S. — They say the child looks like me. I am more anxious it 
should look like Charlotte, in the hopes it may resemble her in char- 
acter. I forgot to say that last night, when I went into the room, 
it looked full at me, and really seemed to know me. 

Affectionately, R. F. 

This dear child grew up like one of the sweet, delicate 
flowers in the garden in Beaufort, and faded as quickly 
awa} T . "Whom the gods love die early " is a proverb 
often verified in the history of some of the noblest of the 
race. Kingman Nott, drowned at Staten Island in early 
manhood, in the dawn of a promising ministry ; Lady Jane 



MARRIAGE. 59 

Grey, beheaded by a ruthless policy in the opening blush of a 
gifted womanhood, — are nrysteries which can only be referred 
to the future for their solution. 

Bessie was converted when about nine years of age. Her 
father at first discouraged her request for baptism. But one 
plea prevailed. "Papa, I am not too young to love you: 
am I too 3'oung to love Jesus?" She was baptized, and 
by a meek and quiet spirit, a lovely though transient life, 
adorned the doctrine of G-od her Saviour. 

After their settlement in Baltimore she married Mr. Kim- 
ball, but died soon afterwards, leaving one son, Eichard 
Fuller Kimball. As she passed away, she comforted her 
broken-hearted parents by repeating the words which had 
strengthened her own soul : ' ' Forasmuch as the children 
are partakers of flesh and blood, he also himself likewise 
took part of the same, that through death he might destroy 
him that had the power of death." 

The loss of their first-born was a sharp arrow of pain in 
that family circle. But such was the faith and strength 
given to the father, that he rose from the ashes of his grief, 
went to the house of God, and preached a sermon commemo- 
rative of the event. The text was from 2 Cor. i. 4 : " That 
we ma}~ be able to comfort them which are in any trouble by 
the comfort wherewith we ourselves are comforted of God," 
— the ability of a minister to comfort others growing out of 
his own experience. This sermon, overflowing with tender- 
ness, and full of the rich treasures of chastened wisdom, 
was published for a limited circulation. 

Her memory was always a well-spring of tenderness in 
the father's heart. In many of his addresses to the young, 
sometimes in larger assemblies, when the sensibilities of his 
own heart were stirred, this memoiy would come over him, 
and the mention of her early piety, and triumph in death, 
would move all hearts with emotion, and suffuse all eyes 
with tears of sympathy. 



60 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

Annie, the next, was a stronger nature. Endowed with 
rare gifts, she made early and remarkable progress in her 
studies. With a strong mind, a vivid imagination, easy and 
agreeable manners, as she grew into womanhood she became 
an ornament of society. The attractions of fashionable life 
exerted a strong influence over this brilliant young woman ; 
and many and deep were the apprehensions of her parents 
at the seeming want of the faith and piety that had shone 
so brightly in their first-born. She married Dr. Buckler of 
Baltimore, and, like her sister Mrs. Kimball, died after a 
brief married life. But as the end came, and she was about 
to enter that cloud which sooner or later wraps its folds 
about all, the great change, we believe, came with it. In 
the deepening twilight she turned to her Saviour, and in 
penitence and faith laid her " little sheaf," as she called it, 
her tribute of affection, at his feet. 

The third and only surviving child is Florence, — "little 
Florie," as she was called. The wealth of affection that 
meets every child as it comes into the world, as if there 
were no others to share it, was ready for this little pet in the 
household. The following letter is a glimpse into the father's 
heart : — 

Beaufort, S.C. 

My sweetest little Floeie, — As you begged me to write, I 
send this letter. It is little, because you are little. But, little as you 
are, you have a large heart ; and the heart of this little letter is large, 
since it is nothing but love for you. 

If I could only see mamma and sister and Annie and yourself, I 
would be very happy ; and I don't mean to let any thing keep me away 
much longer. I would rather be sick with you all than to be well 
and away from you. 

Everybody here asks about little Florence. I expect they will call 
you little Florence when you get to be a big girl. 

Eila especially wants to know when Florie is coming. She is de- 
lighted to hear that you sing, and says that you caught it from her. 
She has given me a little bitter-sweet orange to bring for you. Eila 
is a very sweet little girl, but not as sweet as you are ; nor is she as 
fat, for she does not eat half as many buckwheats. 



1 



MARRIAGE. 61 

A great many little birds are singing in the garden; but I would 
rather hear you sing " Flow gently " than to hear all the birds in the 
world. 

Papa thought of mamma, sister, and Annie, and little Florie, all 
the way he was coming. He thinks of you all every moment, and 
must soon get back to kiss you. Tou must love God for being so 
good to us. I constantly praise him for such a wife and such sweet 
children. 

Your loving papa, E. F. 

There is a picture of the three taken when they were chil- 
dren. Annie is leaning on her older sister, Bessie ; and little 
Florence has an arm twined about her on the other side. 
Two of the group are gone, and the faces that look at us 
from the picture are the shadows they have left. The third 
figure in the group is no longer the little flaxen-haired girl, 
but a woman, a Christian, and the companion of her mother 
in the reduced and darkened household. "My darling 
father," she said, as she saw the cloud at last wrapping its 
edge about him, " I will die for you." — " No, my child," 
he said : " live for me and for Jesus." 



62 LIFE OF BICHAED FULLER. 



CHAPTER IX. 

A NEW LIFE. 

" The great world's altar-stairs, 
That slope through darkness up to Q-od." 

RELIGION — like electricity, pervading all bodies, though 
identical with none — is consistent with every legitimate 
calling ; and yet, as human nature is, the tendency is rather 
in the line of our business secularizing our religion than of 
our religion spiritualizing our business. This is true of every 
profession, but especially of the law. Sir Matthew Hale was 
an eminent jurist and a devout Christian, notwithstanding 
certain prejudices incident to his times. And the union of 
high-toned piety with success in the legal profession has been 
frequently exemplified in our own land, in the history of 
men like Chief Justices Marshall and Chase, and many others 
who have adorned the doctrine of G-od their Saviour, while 
the} T have been shining lights at the bar. At the same time, 
the career of a successful lawyer is full of spiritual peril, not 
only on account of the general engrossment of the mind, 
but on account of the particular temptation to sacrifice con- 
science at the shrine of professional success. The re-action 
in the McK. case must have produced, as his Harvard class- 
mate suggests, a profound impression on young Fuller. In 
the mean time, we can understand his decline from any early 
religious impressions in his keen pursuit of professional emi- 
nence. Borne on by the aspirations of literal ambition and 
legal fame, he was on the road to distinction and wealth ; 



A NEW LIFE. 63 

but, as he afterwards confessed, the world had re-asserted its 
sway over him, if, indeed, that sway had ever been broken. 
Like the 3 T oung nobleman in the Gospel, he lacked the one 
thing needful, — a living, experimental acquaintance with 
" the truth as it is in Jesus." 

And yet there were occasional gleams of that light which 
was to fill and flood his soul. Natural life is a secret which 
no knife of the surgeon, no crucible of the chemist, no mi- 
croscope of the naturalist, can lay bare ; but spiritual life is 
a greater mystery still. As Dean Alford remarks on the 
passage, "The wind bloweth where it listeth, so is every 
one that is born of the Spirit," — it is not so much the 
strong gale which the original word means, as the sudden 
breath and stir of a passing summer wind ; and this myste- 
rious inception of spiritual life veils it often from ourselves, 
as well as from others. 

Dr. Anderson of Scotland — in his book on Regeneration, 
which good judges have pronounced the best work on that 
subject in the English language — says that the advantage 
of early religious instruction is seen in this, that the seed of 
divine truth, even if not yet rooted in the heart, is laid upon 
the surface ; so that the Spirit has only to press it in by his 
own finger when he comes, to make it at once the germ of 
the new life. With Richard Fuller the seed had been long 
sown. At Northampton, in the winter of 1823, he was the 
subject of religious impressions, when, as he wrote to Dr. 
Sprague, his mind "awoke from its oblivious sleep." On 
his return home, these feelings occasionally re-asserted their 
power. Lying one day on a couch in his mother's room, he 
was observed by a member of the family to be convulsed 
with weeping. When asked what was the matter, if he was 
suffering, "No," he said, "lam overpowered with a sense 
of the goodness of God to me." 

Somewhere in these years, when the } T oung law} T er was in 
full practice in Beaufort, a plain but devoted Baptist minis- 



64 LIFE OF BICHAED FULLER. 

ter, Rev. Benjamin Scriven, was lying very low in the same 
town. Either through love for the dear parents, or from 
personal interest in the brilliant son, he sent for him. On 
his arrival, with deep feeling and in a most affectionate man- 
ner the dying minister warned his young friend, and en- 
treated him to come to Jesus. It is said by one who was 
intimate with both families, an aged lady now living in 
Georgia, that Richard Fuller was deepty moved by this sin- 
gular appeal. As he stood by the dying minister, " tears 
streamed down his face." It was the finger of the Spirit 
pressing the precious seed deeper into his heart. Spurgeon 
is said to have been reached by a very plain sermon from 
some obscure preacher ; and the words of a humble but 
earnest man like Mr. Scriven would have been of more 
weight with Richard Fuller than any amount of theological 
learning and argument. 

These are some links in the chain that was drawing this 
new Saul from the law to the gospel. He made a profession 
of religion, and united with the Episcopal Church. The 
Baptists were still a comparatively feeble body. One of the 
few ' ' honorable women ' ' who had joined them remembered 
when they were so poor that " a little table, with two small 
lamps, was the pulpit-stand for the Bible and hymn-book, and 
the place of meeting was so dark and strange-looking, that, 
when some of us as children ventured there to an evening 
sendee, we were partly afraid of the gloom, and partly amused 
at many things that seemed ludicrous to us." This was 
when Dr. Fuller's oldest sister Mary was a girl, and this is 
her account. 

The little one had become a thousand ; but the small one 
was still far from being a strong nation. In all social and 
material advantages the Episcopal Church was so far in 
advance of all other denominations, that nothing but the 
deepest convictions of personal responsibilitj 7 , as in the case 
of the father of the Fuller famiry, could have led to any 



A NEW LIFE. 65 

other church connection. The natural gravitation, therefore, 
of a young man like Richard Fuller, was towards the old 
church, especially when so many noble fruits of piety, as 
well as worldly advantages, were found in its communion. 
Besides, the prayer-book allowed some margin and latitude 
as to baptism. It could be administered by " discreet dip- 
ping," as well as pouring or sprinkling. 

Richard Fuller saw that baptism was immersion, and he 
was accordingly baptized b} r the Episcopal rector in the river. 
With a man like him, this step would never have been taken 
but under the deepest sense of duty. Still we find him, not 
long afterwards, questioning the reality and value of his 
change at that time. 

The following incident, while it created considerable stir in 
the town, must have led to some misgiving as to his conver- 
sion in his own mind. A day or two after his baptism, some 
light-minded individual met him with a sneer: " So, Fuller, 
I see you are a kind of mongrel Baptist." In a rush of 
sudden resentment he struck the offender a blow, which, 
delivered as every thing by him was clone with strength, 
left the man prostrate, and, it is said, senseless for a moment. 
It created no little stir in the quiet little town. A few years 
ago, in Baltimore, Dr. Fuller had occasion to expostulate 
with a man who had interrupted his meetings. In an instant 
this man sprang upon him, and struck him a blow which 
blinded and staggered him. " I had my stick," he said, 
"and could have knocked him down. But no: my Master 
was worse treated. I left quietly, and went home. As soon 
as I recovered in the air from the stunning effect of the 
blow, the whole affair struck me as so ludicrous, that I had 
to burst into a heart}' laugh." When some legal process was 
suggested by his friends, he at once stopped it. We do not 
put these two things together to prove that the law} T er could 
not kave been converted, from the fact of his resentment as 
contrasted with the patient spirit of the minister. There is 



65 LIFE OF BICHARD FULLER. 

good theology as well as common sense in the remark of an 
old divine, that there is " more bad in good men, and more 
good in bad men, than we at first suppose." The grain of 
mustard-seed is very small ; and j^et it is a living germ, and 
made b} T Christ himself the type of the spiritual principle. 
Still, Richard Fuller had reason to question the spirit which 
could 3ield so quickly to provocation. We find, accordingly, 
that he gives a different date for his conversion. 

His parents and some of the family were members of the 
Baptist Church, drawn to it, as we have seen, by their con- 
victions as to the proper subjects as well as the mode of 
baptism. Miss Harriet was teaching in the colored school 
that met after the morning service. Her scholar, " Aunt 
JiKly,'' the native African woman, was as enthusiastic a 
Christian as herself. Their hearts were engaged to seek at 
the mercy-seat an object of great interest to them, — the 
entire consecration to Christ of the gifted lawyer. 

And God was not wanting to their praj'ers. Let men dog- 
matize about the laws of the universe, and call it unphilosophi- 
cal to claim any place for prayer in such a system. What is 
this but the old fallacy and absurdity of the petitio printipii f 
Who, without an exhaustive knowledge of the whole system 
(which is out of the question) , can prove that it is not a part 
of that veiy scheme and s} T stem, provided for from the 
beginning, to make room for the intervention of faith and 
prayer? Dr. Chalmers has a striking illustration in the sup- 
posed case of a mother praying for her boy in a storm at sea. 
The laws that control the winds and waves may be in full and 
regular operation ; while, out of sight of human observation, 
the invisible hand that controls the whole touches some re- 
mote link in the chain, and by natural law saves the ship, 
or rescues the child. " What profit shall we have if we pray 
unto Him? " is a scepticism as old as the time of Job. But, 
from that day to this, praj-er has been the open and ^veil- 
trodden avenue between heaven and earth ; and while men, in 



A NEW LIFE. 67 

blindness and arrogance, have been raving about the laws of 
the universe and the mysticism of prayer, the incense has 
been going up in a perpetual cloud to heaven, and answers to 
prayer have been and are matters of daily and delightful 
experience. 

" A sense o'er all my soul impressed, 

That I am weak, yet not unblest; 

Since in me, round me, everywhere, 

Eternal strength and wisdom are." 

In the year 1831-32 a most remarkable religious move- 
ment visited the Carolinas and Georgia. The Rev. Daniel 
Baker was passing through this section as an evangelist, " in 
the spirit and power of Elias." Wherever he went the wave 
of religious feeling seemed to follow, until it swept like a 
spring-tide over the sea- coast. It was not the gathering 
of the multitudes that crowded around Whitefield, nor the 
dense throngs that wait on the ministrations of Moody ; for 
the work was in the comparatively thinly-settled sections of 
the country. But it was a work of great power, that moved 
whole communities ' ' as the trees of the wood are moved 
with the wind." When Mr. Baker came to Beaufort, it was 
the same extraordinary influence. Such was the feeling, 
that all questions of holy places and holy orders were set 
aside for the time. The whole town was a holy place. The 
meetings were held alternately in the Episcopal and Bap- 
tist churches. Many years afterwards Mr. Baker visited 
Charleston, an old man, scarcely able to say more than 
repeat the words which John is said to have used, when, in 
old age, he was carried in and out of the church at Ephesus : 
"Little children, love one another." But on this occasion 
he was in the prime of his mental and physical strength. 
Some who were then children remember the feeling of 
wonder with which they saw the multitudes kneeling around 
the pulpit and in the crowded aisles. With clearness of 
statement, unction of spirit, and wonderful earnestness of 



68 LIFE OF EICHAED FULLER. 

manner, the evangelist delivered Ms message to the people 
of Beaufort. His voice is said to have been like a clarion, — 
a combination of great sweetness and strength. His famous 
" Revival Sermons " show more thought and study than an}' 
published sermons of Whitefield. The third in the series — 
' w On Christ the Mediator " — is remarkable for the sound- 
ness of its argument and the force and freshness of the 
application. The passage on the union of the divine and 
human natures in our Lord is a fine conception, and in its 
deliver} 7 , under the circumstances, must have produced a 
profound impression. 

The work was remarkable, not only in the number and 
soundness of the conversions, but in its triumphs among the 
higher classes of society. Men of talent, culture, and wealth, 
were brought to Christ. Fuller, Barnwell, Elliott, — these 
are some of the names that were added to the churches, 
— names that were soon distinguished in the different 
denominations. 

In the appendix to his sermons Mr. Baker makes the fol- 
lowing entry : — 

" During the revival in Beaufort, Mr. Fuller, a talented lawyer, 
was numbered amongst the converts. His case was a very clear and 
delightful one. Immediately after his conversion I called upon him. 
He was upon the mount. With a countenance radiant with delight, 
he grasped my hand, and exclaimed, ' O sir, I have an ocean of 
joy!'" 

^ Miss Harriet and ' ' Aunt Judy ' ' had received the answer 
to their prayer. Ei chard Fuller was brought into the mar- 
vellous light and liberty of the gospel. Whether it was the 
precise moment of that mysterious change, he himself does 
not determine ; but it was certainly the time and place of his 
translation into the fulness of this marvellous light and liberty. 
Twenty-seven years before, his clear father had passed 
through the same birth-pangs, — an experience marked by 
greater depression in the first stage, and by equal joy in 



A NEW LIFE. 69 

the result. Whether the son ever saw the remarkable manu- 
script of the father, we know not ; but it is a singular coinci- 
dence that each should assign the same reason for the record, 
— " that, when I am gone, it may cause a serious thought in 
those who read it." 

Let us hear his own account of his change. It is in his 
own dear hand, in the family Bible : — 

E. Fuller "born again " Thursday, 26th October, 1831. I had 
from childhood (long before I attached any definite meaning to the 
words) prayed to God for this change, — for a new heart. During a 
severe fit of illness (in the year 1827, 1 think) I felt what I now believe 
to have been the working of God's Holy Spirit; and, for a while after 
convalescence, I took pleasure in the service of the dear Kedeemer. 
I also made a profession of religion. The work, however, if begun, 
was imperfect. The world soon re-asserted and resumed its control. 
My life for years was now spent amidst vanity and folly and sin. 
Pride and evil passions prevailed. Nay, in my heart I attempted to 
vindicate them; though I felt the folly and guilt of such pleas, even 
when reason would seem to have approved them. All this while my 
" goodness" was like Ephrainfs. I felt satisfied I had never experi- 
enced that change without which a man cannot enter the kingdom of 
heaven. For this I prayed without ceasing. Glory to God ! I found 
at last what I sought, and was filled with a joy which I can never 
express, — "unspeakable, and full of glory." Creation seemed full 
of God. The trees, the leaves, the earth, the sky, all things, seemed 
to utter his praises. For days I could neither eat nor sleep. I lived 
upon the love of God shed abroad in my heart, and the name of 
Jesus shed light and fragrance over every thing. These ecstatic feel- 
ings have now passed away (they would have rendered me unfit to 
live in such a world) ; but I am still filled with the peace of God, which 
" passes all understanding." This change (the new birth) I felt under 
no excitement, but while on my knees in the company of many gath- 
ered for prayer. I knelt down trembling, but in a moment was so 
melted and filled with wonderful emotions, that I did little more 
than sob and weep. TThen I arose, I was hardly conscious of what 
had passed. My heart and soul were running over with love and 
joy and praise. 

I make this record, in hopes, ichen I am gone, it may cause a seri- 
ous thoujld in those who read it. 

E. F. 

February, 1832. 



70 LIFE OF BICHAED FULLER. 

" When God revealed his gracious name, 
And changed my mournful state, 
My rapture seemed a pleasing dream, 
The grace appeared so great. 

' Great is the work ! ' my neighbors cried, 
And owned the power divine ; 

* Great is the work ! ' my heart replied, 
And be the glory Thine." 



BAPTISM AND ORDINATION. 71 



CHAPTER X. 

BAPTISM AND ORDINATION. 

Into the flowing stream that day they went : 
The smiling heavens a benediction lent; 
While, like a hymn of resurrection sweet, 
The river murmured at their willing feet. 

WITH a noble river at the door of the sanctuary, the 
church in Beaufort had no need of a baptister} r . Both 
in the front and rear of the town the ordinance could be 
administered with convenience. 

Nor can too great care be taken as to its proper and 
decorous administration. In holding to the spirituality of 
the Church, we must not forget that the Church has a ritual, 
with visible ordinances that call for care and propriety in 
their ministration. Neglect of these matters, in careless or 
too hurried baptisms in the river or in badly-constructed 
baptisteries, has often brought the ordinance into unnecessary 
odium. "Let all things be done decently aud in order:" 
then, with the preparation of prayer and the accompaniment 
of song, the ordinance is one of the most impressive things 
in the world. "Put the candidate down very slowly, but 
raise him up as quickly as you can," was the rule and man- 
ner of Dr. Fuller in this rite ; and it was performed hy him 
with such solemn deliberation, as not only to command 
respect, but often to awaken the most serious feelings with 
those who witnessed it. 

Mr. Fuller had been baptized by the Episcopal minister. 
But as this was before his change, as he believed, and as he 



72 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

now regarded baptism as the act of a believer, and was, 
besides, looking forward to the ministry in a denomination 
with some of whose members his previous baptism may have 
been of doubtful validity, he determined on rebaptism, as 
expedient, if not necessary, in his case. Some } T ears after- 
wards, when he was pastor of the church, a lad}', a member 
of the Episcopal Church, applied for membership. She, like 
himself, had been baptized in the river by the rector ; but, 
understanding there might be some scruples in the Baptist 
Church as to a baptism administered \>y an unbaptized minis- 
ter, she expressed a desire to be rebaptized. A correspond- 
ence was opened by a committee of the church with the 
most eminent Baptist ministers throughout the country, to 
elicit their views on the subject. Most of them expressed 
the opinion, that, as the act was one of personal faith, the 
baptism of the administrator was not essential to its validity. 
If we remember aright, the Rev. Dr. Cone, then pastor of 
the First Baptist Church of New York, expressed a different 
opinion, and held, that, as the commission to baptize was 
given only to baptized (immersed) ministers, no others were 
scripturally qualified to administer the ordinance. In this 
case the matter was properly left to the wishes and judgment 
of the candidate ; and with the sacrifice of all personal feel- 
ing, and looking chiefly to the satisfaction of others as to 
her membership, she asked for and received baptism at the 
hands of the pastor. 

"It is appointed unto men once to die;" and baptism, 
symbolic of death and resurrection, is one act. Besides, no 
Christian ever lived without some occasional doubts as to 
his conversion ; so that, if, on the alternate recurrence and 
removal of these fears, he were to be baptized with evciy 
such experience, it would become a confused and unmeaning 
repetition. Under no circumstances but the very positive con- 
viction as to previous unregeneracy, or, as in the case of this 
noble-minded woman, the anxiet}' as to perfect unanimity in Ihe 
matter of church-fellowship, should baptism be repeated. 



BAPTISM AND ORDINATION. 73 

In the case of Richard Fuller these considerations were 
strengthened try his desire to devote himself at once and 
wholly to the work of the gospel ministry. " I made haste, 
and delayed not, to keep Thy commandments." His usual 
promptness of action was now accelerated by his new-found 
hope, — the new song that God had put into his mouth; 
and the Rev. Henry O. Wyer, the beloved pastor of the 
Savannah church, was sent for to baptize him. 

The name of this dear minister and that of the sainted 
Binney are such household words in Savannah, and the first 
so intimately associated through life with the subject of this 
sketch, that we will give here a short notice by Dr. Fuller 
of the beloved minister who baptized him. It is part of a 
letter written from Savannah in May, 1869, and published as 
an editorial in " The Herald : " — 

" We first listened to his splendid voice, and felt the spell of his 
earnestness, his sanctified imagination, his burning oratory, in the 
town of Beaufort. We were then at the bar, and cherished the most 
fastidious and exigent taste for those proprieties of ecclesiastical cos- 
tume which Milton terms 'the ghost of a linen decency;' and we 
remember well the shock which came over us, the revulsion of all 
our instincts, when we saw a minister rise in the pulpit wearing a 
black stock where stainless lawn should have been. For a while, 
our superstitious prejudices could scarcely endure such profanation; 
but it was only for a while. We soon forgot external fripperies and 
coxcomical fopperies as we found our soul in sympathy with that 
commanding presence, that intrepid love of truth, that gushing, 
pleading, yearning solicitude for souls and for the glory of Jesus. 
Not very long after this we were baptized by him. Baptist Noel 
confesses that for twenty years he was afraid to examine the subject 
of baptism, as he had misgivings, and could not leave the established 
hierarchy. Unwilling to come out from the Episcopal Church, we 
had before tried to satisfy our conscience by being immersed in that 
communion. Bat, while politics is the science of compromises, no 
true child of God can long compromise any thing in his duty to 
Jesus. 

" For the benefit of our younger brethren we may repeat, what we 
several times remarked to this gifted minister, that great natural 



74 LIFE OF BICHABD FULLEB. 

fluency is often a dangerous snare. He would have surpassed most 
men if his elocution had been less wonderful and his graceful decla- 
mation less charming. With no preparation, he would hold an 
audience in rapt and weeping attention ; and thus he unconsciously- 
felt himself superior to the hard study, the painful discipline, the 
sweat of the intellect, by which alone it is God's fixed decree that 
there shall be first wrought in us, and then be wrought by us into 
others, those great thoughts that master and rule the world." 

Such was the beloved Wyer, father of the esteemed minis- 
ter of the same name now living in Warrenton, Va. On 
the occasion of Mr. Fuller's baptism the usual brief address 
was made by Mr. Wyer. He stated that the candidate 
wished to be baptized, as he believed he was an unregenerate 
man at the time of his first baptism ; and besides, as he 
expected to devote himself to the work of the ministry, he 
was anxious to obviate all objections as to irregularity. 
"And they went down both into the water, and he baptized 
him." 

n The concourse on the river-bank ; the loving, happy family 
whose cup was running over ; the multitude of colored people 
who generally believed in ' ' much water ' ' as necessary to 
the ordinance, and with whom Richard Fuller was always a 
favorite; Miss Harriet and "Aunt Judy," the teacher and 
her scholar, — these were the "many witnesses" before 
whom he made " a good confession." 

"Didn't I tell } t ou so, Miss Harriet?" whispered the 
enthusiastic African. " I knew the Lord would bring him." 
As j-ears afterwards the old woman described the scene, she 
spoke of it with a glow of joy lighting up her jet-black face 
at the remembrance, and a vividness of imagination charac- 
teristic of her race. "The river looked bright that day," 
she said, " and the leaves on the trees along the bank were 
clapping their hands for joy." 

All Nature joins the resurrection-hymn, 
As if with secret instinct of the day, 
When, from her baptism in the sea of time, 
She comes, and former things are passed away. 



BAPTISM AND ORDINATION. 75 

Soon after his baptism, and before his ordination, he 
invited his associates at the bar to meet him at dinner at 
his house. With the usual courtesies of a dinner-party must 
have mingled, in one heart at least, a feeling of deeper 
seriousness. An intimate friend, writing of that interview 
with his professional brethren, says, that, after dinner, Mr. 
Fuller rose, and, announcing his purpose to devote his life to 
the ministry of the gospel, took leave of them as a lawj'er 
in a most affectionate manner. 

One of the most graphic pictures in history is Lamartine's 
account of the banquet spread by the Girondists of the 
French Revolution in the prison the night before their execu- 
tion ; the high converse of those patriots and philosophers on 
all the great questions of life, death, and a future state. 
But this was on the eve of a great disaster. With Richard 
Fuller it was the margin and hour of a new life. Years 
afterwards, in baptizing a relative in the same river, he 
whispered in his ear, as he raised him out of the water, 
" Now for a new life ! " In his own case, his baptism was, 
indeed, symbolic of a new and most wonderful life. 

His ordination as a recognized minister in the Baptist 
denomination soon followed. This was in 1832. No minis- 
ter was a warmer friend and advocate, through life, of theo- 
logical schools and seminaries. This was due, among other 
reasons, to his probably feeling the necesshy of very hard 
work at the beginning, in his own case, to make up the want 
of this equipment for the ministry. But his classical educa- 
tion, his training as a law}*er, above all, the leading of that 
Spirit who had said so emphatically, " Separate me Richard 
Fuller for the work whereunto I have called him," constituted 
a distinct and special preparation. He at once gathered the 
nucleus of a very valuable theological library ; while b}- his ^ 
knowledge of French, and subsequent study of the German 
language, he could follow the great masters in every branch 
of sacred literature. 



76 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

The ordaining presbyteiy, in formally setting him apart 
to the work, laid their hands that day on as noble a head as 
ever bowed to take the vows of consecration to the highest 
office upon earth. 

At the conclusion of the ordination-service a most interest- 
ing sequel followed. An aged lady still living in Georgia 
writes that she witnessed the baptism, the same day, of more 
than a hundred candidates, receiving the ordinance at the 
hands of the minister who had just been ordained. The 
first believer he ever buried with Christ by baptism was a 
distant relative, — Miss Susan Nichols. 

As the tide suited, the ordinance was administered in the 
morning, before service, or in the afternoon. It was always 
an occasion of great interest in Beaufort. Everybody 
attended in carriages, or on foot. After brief appropriate 
services on the river-bank, the procession of minister and 
candidates, headed by the venerable colored sexton, Jacob 
Witter, with his staff to sound and stake off the proper depth 
and place, slowly entered the river to the music of some bap- 
tismal hymn and the sweet accompaniment of the flowing 
waters. The ordinance then proceeded, with an occasional 
pause or murmur of interest, or scarcely-suppressed sob of 
emotion, as some loved one was buried with Christ ; while 
the voice of the minister, repeating the form, floated over 
the waves, and the responses of the multitude swelled the 
Irymn, until the benediction was pronounced, and the sym- 
pathizing crowds slowly dispersed to their homes, or again 
wended their way to the house of God. 



PASTORATE IN BEAUFOBT. — OLD CHURCH. 



CHAPTER XI. 

PASTORATE IN BEAUFORT. OLD CHURCH. 

" There stands the messenger of truth; there stands 
The legate of the skies. . . . 
By him the violated law speaks out 
Its thunders; and hy him, in strains as sweet 
As angels use, the gospel whispers peace." 

" A S for this people," says Mosheim, speaking of the 
-£j- Baptists, "they are lost in the depth of antiquity" 
(Ecc. Hist.). From the days of the apostles to the present 
time, there are traces of sects and individuals holding nearly, 
if not exactly, the sentiments of the modern Baptists. What 
is commonly understood by apostolical succession may be 
regarded as a fiction of the dark ages. So far as the visible 
church is concerned, the chain is certainly either broken or 
-vicious : if broken, and this outward continuity is essential 
to the existence of the church, the church is lost ; if vicious, 
as in the case of apostate churches and unregenerate heads of 
the church, the purity, and therefore the divinity, of the line 
is lost. But the transmission and continuance of the Spirit is 
a truth clearly stated in the Scriptures, and realized in the 
history of that true church and body of Christ, which, in 
some of its members, has alwa}~s existed in the world. This 
is at once the promise and the fulfilment of the Scripture : 
" On this rock I wi ]1 build my church, and the gates of hell 
shall not prevail against it." 

The Baptists of America, in the number of their commu- 
nicants, are now the foremost division of the Church in this 



78 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

land. When we remember their troubles in the old country, 
the persecutions that followed them to the new, their ex- 
pulsion from Massachusetts, their imprisonment in the Old 
Dominion, their depressed condition in the Carolinas and 
Georgia, and see the progress they have made, we cannot 
but exclaim ,Y" What hath God wrought ! " As the palm-tree 
is said to be strengthened b}^ the weights put upon it, the 
progress of this sect, "everywhere spoken against," has 
been made in the face of constant and multiplied trials. 
' With Iibert} T of conscience in matters of religion, as separate 
from all state control ; a converted membership ; the baptism 
of believers only ; and immersion on a profession of faith, 
as the one scriptural baptism, — with these articles of faith 
inscribed upon their banner, this tribe of the spiritual Israel 
has marched steadily forward. ^ 

The condition of the Baptists in South Carolina, and espe- 
cially in Beaufort, at the beginning of the present century, 
was one of marked depression. As to Beaufort, Dr. Hol- 
combe writes in 1812, — 

"The principal inhabitants of Beaufort, though possessed of 
wealth, learning, and talents, were, with few honorable exceptions, 
strangers to true religion, and strongly prejudiced against the Bap- 
tists." 

More than a century before, churches of our faith and 
order had been planted, and were enjojing some measure 
of prosperity, in other parts of the State. The First Church 
in Charleston was one of the oldest organizations in the 
whole land, and, under the ministry of Scriven, Hart, and 
Furman, had become a body of considerable influence. But 
the denomination throughout the State at the beginning of 
the present century was in a feeble and precarious state. 

But, if revolutions never go backward, the word of God 
must always grow and be multiplied. In a centennial dis- 
course preached b} T the Rev. Mr. Shuck in Charleston in 



. PASTORATE IN BEAUFORT. — OLD CHURCH. 79 

1876, the following facts are stated : One hundred years ago ^ 
there were eleven Baptist churches in the State ; now there 
are seven hundred and eighty-eight : then there were ten 
ministers and about two hundred or three hundred members ; 
now there are four hundred and fifty ministers and ninety-five 
thousand two hundred and fift} T members. "We shall see to 
what extent this progress is due, under God, to the labors 
of Richard Fuller. 

At the time we have reached in our histoiy, the Baptists 
had made some progress in Beaufort, though not pari passu 
with a few more favored churches. The Cooks, the elder 
Brantry, the excellent Graham, laborers in this field, had 
rested from their labors, and their works had followed them, 
and precious fruit had been gathered in. The great majority y 
of the members were the colored people of the town and 
adjoining plantations. The middle classes of the white pop- 
ulation, and a few of the wealthier families, constituted the 
rest of the membership. Rev. Mr. Graham, a Scotchman, 
was the pastor who succeeded Dr. Brantly, — a minister of 
good sense and sterling piety, but, as he seemed to the 
children who then listened to him, a nrysterious old man, 
talking from the old pulpit of very important but very un- 
intelligible things. 

Soon after his ordination, Richard Fuller was called to 
the pastoral charge. His views of his newly-chosen office, 
its duties and responsibilities, were of a very positive and 
exalted character. He never magnified himself, he more 
and more humbled himself; but his office he alwaj's and 
increasingly magnified. In a charge on the duties of 
the office he afterwards made to a candidate in Char- 
leston, he compared a minister to a figure on a pedestal, 
which, unless it be of more than ordinary size, will be )s 
dwarfed by the very elevation ; and insisted on a devotion 
of life, and consecration to the one thing of preaching Christ ; 
which made the young man tremble, and feel that he was 



80 LIFE OF BICHABD FULLEB. 

indeed watching for souls " as one who must give account." 
This was his own standard. He entered upon his work with 
the devotion, industry, and enthusiasm which he had shown 
at Harvard and at the bar. And the church at Beaufort 
soon became — like the church at Kettering, Eng., under the 
pastorate of his great namesake Andrew Fuller, or the church 
at Cambridge, under the still more illustrious Hall — every- 
where associated with the name of the minister. 

"His earliest pulpit efforts," writes his nephew, Rev. 
R. W. Fuller, " were very unsatisfactory to himself. Again 
and again he was disturbed by doubts as to his fitness for the 
ministry." Robert Hall was not only subject to discourage- 
ments at first, but to occasional failures in the pulpit. But 
< all difficulties only stimulated that intense application, that 
study and mastery of the best masters, above all, that 
renewed consecration to his Saviour, which soon brought 
him to the front rank of the preachers of this or of any age. 
Dr. Newell of Cambridge, Mass., writes that his success at 
college was as much due to his close application as to his 
genius ; and his success in the pulpit and Christian work 
>was as much the result of hard, conscientious work, as of his 
pre-eminent gifts. 

Besides the usual sabbath morning and afternoon services, 
a lecture was given in the Tabernacle — a frame-building in 
the centre of the town — every Wednesday evening, and a 
prayer-meeting held every Friday evening from house to 
house. With a conscientious minister this is no pastime. 
The preparation and delivery of two sermons on Sunday, a 
lecture in the week, and the proper oversight of an additional 
meeting, is a draught on the resources of any man. Such 
was his appreciation of the importance of the work, that he 
used to sa} 7 that no minister ought to go to the smallest 
meeting without having something to say. As to his own 
pulpit efforts, he anticipated them with severe study, close 
revision, and then with \ that preparation of the heart which 
is more than all mere mental furniture.; 



PASTOBATE IN BEAUFORT. — OLD CHUBCR. 81 

Taking some young men who were studying with him into 
his study, he showed them his method of preparation. 
" This," he said, " is the result of my experience as to the 
best way of delivering the truth." It was a method more 
laborious than the full writing out and reading of a sermon, 
while it had the advantage of a written, elaborate discourse ; 
but condensed into two pages of foolscap by a kind of 
original short-hand, and laid on the open Bible, it added to 
the advantage of a writtten discourse the force and freedom 
of a partly extemporaneous method. " If any thing occurs 
to you at the moment," he added, " out with it: some of 
your best things will come in this way." Of course, every 
thing depended, under God,xon a previous mastery of the 
subject, sympathy of spirit, and perfect familiarity with 
those four columns of notes. This was his method at 
first. 

But the work of the minister is as much^in pastoral visita- 
tion, and the general oversight of the church, as in preaching ; 
and, with a man of the large heart and sympathetic nature 
of Richard Fuller, this was the means of great and con- 
stantly-increasing usefulness. 

^ Under the ministry of this new Saul, led from the law to N * 
the gospel, the church was at once strengthened in the in- 
crease of the number and efficiency of the membership. 
The lower portion of the church was given to the whites, the 
ample galleries to the colored people. Soon both the main 
floor and galleries were filled with a congregation in full 
sympathy with this herald of the cross. V The Frenchman 
Beaubien, who went nowhere else, would come to listen to 
his former lawyer. His former associates at the bar, the rich 
planter, the literary man, the visitor sojourning in Beaufort, 
all were attracted by the man who now pleaded for souls, 
to win them to Christ, as he used to plead for his clients at 
the bar. So "the word of God grew and multiplied." 
Scarcely a sermon was preached without some " sign follow- 



82 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

nig," — either the quickening of Christians, or the awakening 
of souls. "Richard Fuller is an enthusiast," some would 
say. Next Sunda}^, after a strong argument on some 
great topic, -^alwaj^s the cross, — the preacher, having heard 
the objection, would pause, and, with a glance of lightning 
and a voice of thunder, ask,)?" And is not enthusiasm cold 
common sense here ? '£ and all hearts would be swept along 
in full sympatlry with the sentiment. 

The weekly lectures were generally on some consecutive 
topic of Christian duty or character, running through a 
series of discourses. These were attended by Episcopalians 
as well as Baptists. They were masterly expositions of 
Scripture, with less of the thunder and lightning of the ser- 
mons on Sunday. 

Preaching-stations were fitted up at convenient points on 
the surrounding plantations for the colored people. These 
were under the supervision of the deacons, with the aid of 
colored leaders of experience and good character. 

The work soon became so enlarged, that it was found ne- 
cessary to emplo}^ an assistant for the pastor. Some of the 
flock began to say that they did not see enough of him at 
their homes. "Mrs. McK.," writes one who was then a 
member, — " Mrs. McK., who was a great admirer of his, 
would say apologetically, ' We will excuse Richard for not 
visiting more, when we hear such sermons on sabbath ; for 
he brings forth things new and old from the treasury of 
the Lord.' " His habits as a literary man and lawj^er may 
have led him at first to dwell more on the special department 
of preaching. Afterwards he insisted on the work of pas- 
toral visitation as a matter of. prime importance, to be carried 
out at any and eve^ sacrifice. This was his own constant 
and growing habit to the last. But the work was too much 
for one man, even for Richard Fuller ; and an assistant was 
employed. Some young man of promise just graduated from 
some seminar}^ was usually chosen. By bringing him into 



PASTOBATE IN BEAUFORT. — OLD CHUBCH. 83 

association with the already famous pastor of the Beaufort 
church, it was the very best post-graduate course he could 
take to prepare him for future and extended usefulness. 
Rev. Dr. Lathrop, now of Stamford, Conn., Rev. Mr. Dun- 
can of Georgia, Rev. Dr. Dargan of South Carolina, and one 
or two others, successively filled this office. The}' preached 
usually in the afternoon, filled occasionally the country sta- 
tions, and visited as actively as possible. The pastor was 
then in easy circumstances, independent of his salary ; but it 
was punctually collected and used, partly in the support of 
the assistant, and partly in promoting the work among the 
colored people. 

The following extract from a letter of a former associate 
and intimate friend, Rev. Dr. Lathrop, will show the nature 
of this relation : — 

Stamfoed, Conn., July, 1877. 

I sustained to him for three years, as you know, the relation of 
assistant pastor of the Beaufort Baptist Church. Fresh from my col- 
legiate and theological studies, I had but little experience in the 
matter of preaching, and none at all as to the duties of the pastoral 
office. I have ever regarded it, therefore, as an instance of God's 
special guidance, that I was permitted to enjoy, at the most critical 
period of my professional life, the counsel and example of one so 
eminently qualified to train a youthful preacher in the way he should 
go. Dr. Fuller's views of the responsibility and sacredness of the 
Christian ministry were so elevated, his determination " not to know 
anything among men," as a preacher, "save Jesus Christ and him 
crucified," his careful avoidance in the pulpit of the discussion of 
( all merely abstruse and curious questions, and his profound earnest- 
ness in the presentation of w the simple truths of the gospelywere so 
marked and impressive, as to leave upon my mind and conscience 
lessons which I have never been able to forget or lightly esteem. If 
in my humble way I have been enabled to confine myself to the one 
work to which in my ordination I pledged myself, and if in that 
work I have been in any measure successful, I owe, under G-od, to 
Richard Fuller, and to him more than to any other man, this single- 
ness of aim, and the sense of responsibility which may in any degree 
have characterized my ministry. This I feel bound to say in justice 
to him at whose feet as a learner it was my privilege to sit, and 



84 LIFE OF BICHABD FULLEB. 

whose memory, now that he is no more with us in the flesh, is 
fragrant with the recollection of many hours of delightful Christian 
and social intercourse. 

Affectionately yours, 

Edwaed Lathbop. 

But there is a limit, bej^ond which the strongest and noblest 
energies cannot be taxed with impunity. The re-action must 
come ; and for the ardent and indefatigable pastor of the 
Beaufort church it came in the return of his old trouble in 
the chest and throat. "I was in Beaufort at the time," 
said Dr. Mcintosh of the Home Mission Board, "and heard 
him say in a scarcely audible whisper one Sunday from the 
pulpit, ; I am unable to speak to you. The physicians order 
me to Europe.' " 



VISIT TO EUROPE. 85 



CHAPTER XII. 



VISIT TO EUROPE. 



" And he said unto them, Come ye yourselves apart, and rest a while. And they 
departed by ship privately." — Mabk vi. 31, 32. 

IF the sentence of Bacon be true, that " reading maketh a 
full man, conference a ready man, and writing an exact 
man," it may be affirmed with equal truth that travel gives 
breadth and refinement to the whole character. Professional 
men, especially ministers, are apt to be stiff and out of joint 
from a certain routine of thought. Many a good minister, 
admirable in the pulpit, is a very awkward piece of furniture 
in the parlor, — an absolute terror to some circles, where he 
often comes like the shadow of a hawk over a covey of par- 
tridges ; and if, with the best intentions, from manner or 
the want of it, he leaves the shadow of the hawk, he can 
hardly count himself as harmless as the dove. 

Richard Fuller was always gentlemanly in manner, as well 
as scholarly in attainments ; but, with the true instinct of 
genius and the purer aspiration of the Christian, he was 
always striving after an ideal to which he never felt that he 
had attained in either culture or religion. Besides, notwith- 
standing his strong constitution, he was broken down from 
over- work ; so that a sea- voyage and a trip to Europe was 
the suggestion and plan. 

At first we were disposed to say of this trip to Europe 
what the Israelites said of Moses on his disappearance in 
the mount, " As for this Moses, we wot not what has become 



SQ LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

of him." The interesting letters he sent home, from use 
and circulation, were soon lost ; but Miss Hall's "Rambles 
in Europe," an entertaining book in the Congressional Li- 
braiy, put us upon his track. 

The trip was made in 1836. It was the day when sailing- 
packets ruled the deep with a cloud of canvas, instead of 
the colossal steamships with their ponderous machinery. 
Our traveller, as we have seen, is a good sailor. Once on a 
voyage to Charleston, when off Hatteras, the propeller was 
compelled by the violence of the storm to " lay to " for some 
time. Our sailor was in good spirits, and in perfect com- 
mand of his faculties. Coming upon a company of sea-sick 
convention delegates, all prostrate, and groaning under the 
rnalacty, he p^fully cried, quoting the Latin, — 

" O si sic omnia!" 

though he was too benevolent a man to have seriously wished 
any continuance of the misery. 

Walking the deck of the ship, as his custom was at sea, 
he watches the silver sheen of the waves, while he thinks of 
the dear church and the happy family- circle at home, and 
conjures up with the wand of imagination, which he knew 
well how to use, the approaching wonders of the Old World. 

Our tourist guide makes no note of his sojourn in Eng- 
land. His eldest brother, who was educated there, used to 
sa}^ that a cultivated Englishman was the best t3^pe of the 
Caucasian race : he did not even except our modern Ameri- 
can. Richard's familiarity with English history and litera- 
ture must have made him at home in the mother-couirhy, 
and invested ever} T feature of it with interest. Superadded 
to the interest of the student was, in his case, the sj-nrpathy 
of the Christian with scenes so full of the records of Prot- 
estant Christianit}*, — the lives and labors of the great men 
of the Church of England, — the memory, too, of Buiryan, 
Andrew Fuller, the gifted Hall, and the saintly Ryland. 



VISIT TO EUROPE. 87 

Baptist Noel had not yet severed his connection with the 
Establishment. Worthy of mention among these names, 
honored in Baptist church-history, is the name of Dr. 
Thomas Curtis, who came to the States about half a century 
ago, and delighted all who heard him by his rare powers as 
a Bible expositor. Bj r one of those strange providences 
which shape our way, and especially the end of it, he was 
lost in the burning of the steamer " Louisiana," on her trip 
from Baltimore to Norfolk, in 1859. Whether by fire or flood 
the man of God passed away, his sons were never able to 
determine. His friend and admirer, Richard Fuller, preached 
a commemorative sermon soon afterwards in Charleston from 
the words, "My father, my father, the chariot of Israel, 
and the horsemen thereof." 

Our guide makes the following entry : — 

"May 31, 1836. — Embarked at Marseilles, on board 'The Pho- 
cion,' for Naples, — the first trip of a steamboat built expressly for 
taking out parties of pleasure to the Mediterranean coast. It gave 
us great pleasure to find among the passengers two gentlemen from 
South Carolina, bound, like ourselves, for Naples." 

The following fragment to Mrs. Fuller is nearly of this 
date : — 

Cittta Vecchia, June, 1836. 
Here we are, expecting to set off for Rome at four to-morrow 
morning. I wrote from Marseilles, from which place we embarked 
on Tuesday in a splendid steamboat. It was a source of interest to 
me to feel myself on the sea upon which Paul was shipwrecked ; and 
that fact even reconciled me to the short, sharp, nauseating motion 
of these waters. What a contrast in our situation! — that noble 
apostle a prisoner, and suffering cold and want and shipwreck; and 
I enjoying this balmy climate, surrounded by the most delicious 
luxuries. E. F. 

Miss Hall continues : — 

" Juste 7. — Having slept on board the boat, in preference to going 
into the miserable town of Civita Yecchia, we took our departure at 
five A. m. in company with our countrymen, Messrs. Fuller and 
Campbell. It is scarcely possible to imagine any thing more dreary 



88 LIFE OF BICHARD FULLER. 

and desolate than the tract of country between the two cities. The 
distance is forty-seven miles." 

What must have been the feeling of that enthusiastic 
nature at the first sight of the Eternal City and the dome of 
St. Peter's ! Paul, ages before, approached the cnry on the 
Appian Way ; and, though a prisoner, when he met the breth- 
ren "he thanked God, and took courage." No brethren were 
there to meet Richard Fuller ; but no raging Nero stood as a 
lion in his path. It was a moment of supreme interest. He 
had his moods of revery and silence, and this was one. Woe 
to the unwitting intruder at such times ! Eev. Dr. Hill, now 
spending the evening of a long and honored life at the capi- 
tal, tells of a little episode related to him by Miss Hall her- 
self as to this entrance into Rome. As the diligence entered 
the city, Mr. Campbell became as communicative as his 
companion Fuller was silent. "Fuller," he said, as his 
curiosity was now thoroughly aroused, "what do you think 
is this place? " — " Oh ! " quietly replied the dreamer, " this 
must be the place of the cackling of the geese." The allu- 
sion to the saving of the capitol that night from the Gauls 
saved him, she said, from further questions for a time. 

This impatience and bruskness of manner he would him- 
self condemn afterwards, wondering, as he sometimes ex- 
pressed it, whether Omnipotence itself could save such a 
sinner as he. He had a strong and righteous repugnance to 
interruption just before preaching and while in the pulpit. 
He was present on the occasion of the dedication of the 
First Baptist Church of Philadelphia, — a noble edifice, built 
by as noble a band of Christians as ever lived and toiled for 
Jesus. Just before the hour of the evening service the 
excellent Newton Brown called. "Tell him," said the 
preacher to the messenger at the study-door, ' ' if the apostle 
Paul or my grandmother called, they would have to wait until 
after service." In the same pulpit, a short time afterwards, 
the minister with him was giving out a notice as to the 



VISIT TO EUROPE. 89 

preaching of Dr. Tucker of Georgia, and stated, as a pleas- 
ant remembrance to some of the congregation, that he was 
the grandson of the old pastor, Dr. Holcombe. " Hush ! " 
whispered the doctor in an undertone in the rear. When 
asked to explain after service, "Pardon me," he replied; 
" but, really, the notice left me uncertain whether 3-011 said 
Tucker or his grandfather was going to hold forth." Per 
contra, how promptly, at the call of suffering, could he go, on 
his way to the pulpit, to pray with the old man and the dying 
girl who sent for him one Sunday in Beaufort ! 

But let him alone in the pulpit, and do not awaken him 
from his dreams in the gateway of Rome. The vision, as 
he afterwards described it in a sermon, was full before him, — 
the scenes of his early studies ; the forum where Cicero 
pleaded, and Marc Antony roused all Rome into fury over 
the wounds of Caesar ; the days of the empire, when the lion 
Nero raged around the circus, when Paul stood before him 
on the mosaic pavement at that first and second trial, when 
all, even the brethren, had fled, but when the Lord stood 
with him, and strengthened him. 

Our next entry places him at Naples. 

" June 22, 1836. — The Neapolitans seem to have a dialect peculiar 
to themselves, so different from the pure Italian spoken at Rome, that 
Mr. Fuller — who reads and speaks the language, and could under- 
stand perfectly the conversation in the streets of Eome — can scarcely 
comprehend a word here." 

The rich engravings of Naples that he brought back with 
him show the impressions he received from that enchanting 
scener}-, — the beautiful bay, so like the river-front in Beau- 
fort when the tide was up ; the groups of fishermen and 
lazzaroni; the smoking mountain, where the elder Pliny 
perished b} T a too rash and curious approach, watching grimly 
over the ashes of the buried cities at its base ; the neighbor- 
ing grotto, — the fabled descensus Averno , or mouth of hell. 

As there are no railroads yet, they return by diligence to 
Rome. 



90 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

" June 23, 1836. — This morning, at an early hour, we bade adieu 
to Naples, and took the first steps in our homeward journey. On 
entering the carriage we found a fellow-passenger in the garb of a 
monk. His dress bespoke him of the order of St. Francis. His 
appearance, without hat or stockings, was far from prepossessing; 
but our gentlemen found him exceedingly shrewd and well-educated. 
He had travelled in Greece, Turkey, Egypt, and Palestine, spoke 
French with the elegance of a Parisian, and was familiar with ancient 
and modern Greek, Latin, Spanish, and Arabic. We lamented the 
delusion, as we must consider it, that could lead such a man to shut 
himself up and lead a comparatively useless life, when he had it in 
his power to contribute so much to the welfare and happiness of 
society. It was a subject of regret with our party that our clerical 
friend Mr. Fuller was not sufficiently familiar with French or Italian 
to enter into a religious discussion with the Franciscan. From the 
character and attainments of the two gentlemen, such a discussion 
could not have failed to be interesting, whether productive of any 
good results or not. At one time, speaking of monastic life, Mr. 
Fuller advised the brother of St. Francis to renounce it, and marry, 
telling him at the same time he would give him a dispensation for 
so doing. The monk, with the utmost readiness, replied in Latin 
that no man could give what he did not possess." 

They are once more at the gates of Eome. They ap- 
proached on this visit by the same Appian Way over which 
Paul came as a prisoner before Caesar. What changes since 
the apostle walked over that road ! Instead of the lion Nero, 
the man with the triple crown ; in place of a gorgeous 
though declining Paganism, the grafting of that apostasj^ 
which was predicted as its successor. What a difference 
between the Christianity of Paul and the Christianity of 
Pome ! between the cross preached by the one as the symbol 
of suffering and self-denial, and the cross upheld b} T the 
other as the sign of a splendid and accommodating ritual- 
ism ! 

Taylor and his brethren had not yet gone to Pome ; so 
that, whatever sympathy literaiy taste and personal accom- 
plishments ma} T have secured for our traveller, his position 
was isolated as a Christian, and especially as a Baptist. 



VISIT TO EUROPE. 91 

In the city of art and artists a man of culture and refined 
tastes must be at home. In other places, the creations of 
genius in prose and poetry may be superior ; but nowhere 
on earth are the noble conceptions of thought painted on 
canvas, and chiselled into the immortality of marble, as 
here. 

" July 4, 1836. — Paid a visit to the studio of Sigiior Cavaleri, one 
of the most eminent artists of Eome. He is painting a portrait of 
our friend Mr. Fuller; and, though he has had but two sittings, the 
likeness is perfect. We saw at his room a fine painting Mr. Fuller 
had purchased: it is a crucifixion, with the two Marys portrayed on 
the same canvas. The figure of our Saviour is a copy from the cele- 
brated painting of Guido in the Church of St. Lorenzo." 

Both the likeness and the crucifixion are in the parlor at 
home. The likeness is more florid in complexion, and with 
a richer profusion of hair on the ample forehead, than the 
likeness of later years ; but it looks as he did when he stood 
in the shadow of St. Peter's, and measured with his eye the 
vast height of four hundred and fifty feet from the basement 
to the ball and cross, — those vast proportions, which are 
reduced in effect by the perfect harnioiry and proportion ; 
that magnificent dome, of which another traveller writes, that, 
" next to the dome of heaven, there is nothing on earth so 
grand, except the temple of the humble and contrite heart, 
which exceeds both." Under that dome, before those mas- 
terpieces of Angelo and Guido, the heart of Richard Fuller 
was gathering fresh power and inspiration with which to tell, 
not of the wonders of art, but of the greater wonders of the 
cross. 

But it was with the eye and heart of a Christian, more 
than of a mere artist, that he looked at Rome. His was not 
a mind to take up lightly the popular objections to Roman- 
ism. Trained as a lawyer to sift and weigh evidence, he 
brought to bear upon this subject a disciplined mind and a 
mature judgment. Mcintosh, a } T oung Scotchman of prom- 



* 



i. 



92 LIFE OF BICHABD FULLER. 

ise, who spent some time in Rome, and studied the sj^stem 
closely, wrote the following as the result of his observa- 
tion : — 

" The gospel says, 'Unite yourself to Christ, and through him, aud 
him alone, to one another and the Church.' The Eomish Church 
says, 'Unite yourself to me, and through me, and me alone, to 
Christ.'" — Life: Macleod. 

This transposition, he says, expresses the cardinal error 
of Rome, and a most pernicious and fatal one. He proceeds 
to ask whether the chances are not all against the heart and 
conscience ever finding Christ, in the sense in which this is 
understood in the Scriptures, by any processes of repentance 
and faith, when both heart and conscience are once in- 
trenched behind the forms and ordinances of the Church. 

Our clerical friend Fuller had reached this conclusion be- 
fore he left America. The above formula expresses really 
not only the sharp difference between Rome and the gospel, 
but the difference between that gospel and every system 
which places baptism before faith and an intelligent reception 
of the gospel. 

"SignorG-." (continues our guide), "one of the most intelligent 
men in Rome, and himself a Catholic, assured Mr. Fuller that the 
people did actually and commonly worship the pictures and images 
with which their churches are filled. He recommended Mr. Fuller 
to go to a particular church in Eome. It is one of the numerous 
churches dedicated to the Virgin, and contains a statue of her which 
has the reputation of working miracles. When Mr. Fuller visited it, 
he found great numhers of the lowest order of the people praying 
before this wonder-working image. The arms, neck, and indeed 
much of the person, were loaded with the different kinds of orna- 
ments she had received from her votaries. In various parts of the 
building, rifles, daggers, and various descriptions of deadly arms, 
were suspended. These, Mr. Fuller was informed, were the offerings 
of brigands, &c, either made in gratitude to the Virgin for the 
success she had granted them, or to secure her favor in some con- 
templated villanies." 

The best place to study Romanism is, of course, Rome. 



VISIT TO EUROPE. 93 

In Protestant lands the sj'stem must necessarily be modified 
by its contact with a purer Christianity. Its true features 
are either disguised, or but partially developed. But at 
Eome, especially when Fuller visited it, — when its temporal 
as well as spiritual power was in full blast, — it was Roman- 
ism with little or no modification of any of its peculiarities 
that offered itself for examination. With his keen powers 
of observation, Fuller made note of all ; and the value and 
use of this study we shall afterwards see. 
Another fragment to Mrs. Fuller : — 

"We stopped two days at Genoa, and it greatly merits its title of 
'La Superbe.' It is a most beautiful city, and a city of palaces. 
We, of course, visited these, and found them very gorgeous. But 
the churches and cathedrals here combine all that elegance and 
sumptuousness and age can contribute. Never was there so magnifi- 
cent a superstition as that of Eome, and the whole land of Italy is 
sunk beneath its influence. At Genoa we witnessed the great cere- 
mony of the Corpus Christi procession." — E. F. 

Farewell, sunny Italy ! Hail, giant Alps, that echo to the 
steps of the chamois-hunter and the thunder of the ava- 
lanche ! Fuller loved the mountain as much as the sea. 
He could climb the rough sides of the one, as well as patrol 
the deck of a ship in a storm on the other. 

" Chamouni, Aug. 10, 1836. 
"We were agreeably surprised" (writes Miss Hall, who had been 
separated from our party) "to find Eev. Mr. Fuller here. He repre- 
sents the peasants of Switzerland as the happiest people in the world. 
They told him in Chamouni that nobody died there. ' In fact/ said 
he, " if people are to be immortal anywhere upon earth, I should 
expect to find them so in this country.' " 

With the feeling of renewed health as he climbed among 
the glaciers, and mingled with the simple villagers, he felt 
something like the touch and throb of immortality in his own 
frame, and spoke with his usual enthusiasm. There was 
such an exuberance of life in that strong and beautiful spirit, 



94: LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

that neither in Switzerland, nor anywhere else, could any one 
well associate deca} T and death with him. Alas, alas ! " my 
father, my father, the chariot of Israel, and the Horsemen 
thereof." 

" We consider ourselves " (continues Miss Hall) " singularly fortu- 
nate in having been associated, during so large a part of our tour in 
these classic lands, with these gentlemen, Messrs. Fuller and Camp- 
bell. Their enthusiastic love of the fine arts, and the rich stores of 
classic learning with which their minds are imbued, have rendered 
them not only interesting, but highly instructive companions. The 
combination of piety with great intelligence, kindness of heart, and 
refinement of manner, is too rare not to be highly appreciated when 
we meet with it." 

Under the skies of Italy, and among the mountains and 
valleys of Switzerland, our traveller had refreshed his mind 
and recuperated his strength. He turns his face homeward. 
A strong mind, while it rules abroad among men, is depend- 
ent for its tone and strength on the retirement and quiet of 
home. Six months' absence abroad made him eager now to 
be at home and among his dear people once more. He is 
panting for his work, the " one thing " which was the ruling 
passion in his mind, whether in Beaufort, or under the shadow 
of the Vatican, — Jesus and him crucified. 

" Oct. 30, 1836. 
"Our little company, having in a great measure recovered from 
their sea-sickness, assembled in the large cabin this afternoon, and 
had religious services conducted by Rev. Dr. Fuller. There is some- 
thing peculiarly touching in a service of this kind at sea. The prayer 
which was offered by our excellent friend was peculiarly appropriate 
and beautiful, and the heart of every one present seemed touched 
and softened under the hallowing influence of the devotional exer- 
cises. Lamartine, writing at sea, says, ' If prayer was not instinctive 
to man, it is here it would have been invented by beings left alone 
with their thoughts and weaknesses.' But prayer was not invented: 
it was born with the first sigh, or rather man was born to pray." 

It will be observed here that Miss Hall notices especially 



VISIT TO EUROPE. 95 

the prayers of Dr. Fuller. We have heard from him ad- 
dresses of peculiar adapteduess to the place and compairy on 
the deck of a ship. But the mood of his mind was often, 
under these circumstances, so much in sympath} 7 with the wild 
grandeur of the scene, that it would naturally find expression 
more in prayer to God than in preaching to men. Men talk 
of his wonderful sermons : his prayers were just as remarka- 
ble for their fulness, their scripturalness of thought, and their 
tender, childlike simplicity of spirit. 

To relieve the ennui of the voyage, the} 7 agreed to have a 
semi-weekly newspaper. After the first issue, it was voted 
that " The Roscoe Herald " was a respectable periodical, 
worthy of the extensive patronage it enjo} T ed. A court of 
equity, too, was instituted. Cases were conducted, and wit- 
nesses examined, with the utmost gravity. Our quondam 
lawyer was at home, of course, in that court, and, no doubt, 
figured conspicuously in its proceedings. He believed in 
playing while out of school, as in hard work while in ; and 
with gleams of humor, and sallies of wit, he must have con- 
tributed largely to the enjoyment of the voyage home. 

" I was amused " (writes our guide) "with a comment of one of 
our passengers on the hundred and seventh Psalm. After reading 
the verse, ' They reel to and fro, and stagger like a drunken man, and 
are at their wits' end,' he gravely remarked, that he thought ' David 
mast have had a touch of sea-sickness.' 

' ' For twelve or fourteen hours the waves were breaking against the 
side and over the deck of the ship with a force that made the noble 
structure tremble from stem to stern." 

We have seen Fuller, when a gale was abroad in the forest, 
stop in his walk to rejoice in the might of the tempest as it 
swaverl the branches like pla3 T things in its grasp. " This is 
grand," he would say. In a storm at sea, where wind and 
wave blend in still wilder grandeur, his spirit would catch a 
deeper inspiration, and rise to still sublimer conceptions of 
Him who calmly rose from his sleep when the little open ship 



96 LIFE OF BICHAED FULLER. 

in which tliC} T were sidling was in peril on the stormy Galilee, 
and said, " Peace, be still," commanding all into instant re- 
pose as the A'oice of the keeper controls the wild beasts that 
crouch at his feet. 

On the 23d of November the good ship " Roscoe," with 
her precious cargo, reached the desired haven, the port of 
New York. In a few days more our traveller is in the bosom 
of his family and flock in the little seaboard town of Beau- 
fort, S.C. 



PASTORATE IN BEAUFORT. — NEW CHURCH. 97 



CHAPTER XIII. 

PASTORATE IN BEAUFORT. NEW CHURCH. 

" Millions of spiritual creatures walk the earth 
Unseen, both when we wake and when we sleep." 

ABOUT this time an incident occurred which marked an 
epoch in the history of the Beaufort church. Two gen- 
tlemen were one day riding by the church, when one of them 
noticed a depression in the roof of the building. " Do you 
observe," he said, "that sinking in the roof?" — "Yes," 
said the other, " and it is a very dangerous thing." At 
once the}' rode to the pastor's, and reported the matter. A 
carpenter, being sent, reported that some supports of the roof 
were loosened, and that there was a slight swaying of the 
walls. The Sunday approaching was the communion season, 
when hundreds of colored people from the country would 
have crowded the church, and a fearful tragedy may have 
been the result. " The Lord is thy keeper" is continually 
illustrated in a thousand ways, and by the eye and observa- 
tion of a passing rider this danger was averted. No further 
services were held in that house, — the dear old house where 
Cook and Brantly and Graham had labored in the Lord ; 
where the evangelist Baker had thundered ; where Fuller, 
the converted lawyer, had stood as a good soldier of Jesus 
Christ, while in the morning, under the fervid summer sun, 
he sowed the precious seed, and in the evening, when the 
sea-breeze was stirring through the aisles, he withheld not 
his hand, while a sweeter refreshing was coming from the 
presence of the Lord. 



98 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

It is a trial to any congregation to leave an old place of 
worship. Baptists, who contend for the spirituality of the 
church, should not lay too much stress on these things. 
Theirs is a different theory from the Puseyites', whom Hugh 
Miller, in his " Schools and Schoolmasters," playfully terms 
" cat-christians," in their attachment to places and pews. 
But, high or low church, Catholic or Protestant, we are all 
creatures of association ; and many an eye moistened, and 
bosom heaved with regret, when a short time afterwards the 
old building was taken down. 

The congregation had to use for their sabbath as well as 
week-day services the small Tabernacle, — a wooden house in 
the centre of the town. Humble but precious roof! How 
often have the worshippers there been brought to exclaim, 
" Surely this is none other but the house of God, and this is 
the gate of heaven ! ' ' There they have seen heaven opening 
over the willow- trees, and caught glimpses of the angels 
ascending and descending over that roof, and beckoning 
them to a better world. 

With his usual energy, Richard Fuller addressed himself to 
the work of building a new church-edifice. The discourage- 
ments were not a few. The people were generally poor. 
After seeing that they had done what the}' could, and sub- 
scribing liberally himself, he concluded to visit the neighbor- 
ing cities, and preach, and ask contributions for the work. 
The following extract from a letter to a friend in Augusta, 
Ga., will show his trials at this juncture, but, at the same 
time, his spirit and faith : — 

"At first I gave up in despondency; but, after reading Nehemiah 
through, I preached on the verse, 'The God of heaven, he will 
prosper us: therefore we his servants will arise and build.' A sub- 
scription was opened, and enough raised to encourage us. I shall 
have, however (oh, humiliating task! yet whatever humbles me does 
me good), to visit some places, and get more. For this I look to God; 
and he will prosper me, I know. I bless God I am instructed to cast 
all my care upon him, and to repose upon his faithfulness with a calm 



PASTOBATE IN BEAUFORT. — NEW CHUBCH. 99 

trust which once I did not know. People generally speak of our first 
youth as the season of enjoyment. Is it so ? I think not. We then 
expect too much : the consequences are disappointment and chagrin. 
So, in religion, people speak of our first blessedness ; but I find now at 
my conversion I was a mere child of heated feelings and excitements 
and impulses all too vagrant. A growth in grace, while it causes love 
to burn with a deeper and holier glow, gives to our faith more of 
patient fixedness, and enables us to cope more steadily and cheerfully 
with the real, earnest trial of life. Work, work, work! In heaven 
we shall rest, and yet not in indolence. We shall, however, rest from 
our labors ; for our employments shall not fatigue and exhaust, but 
refresh us. Here, however, as in literature and every thing else, 
nothing avails but real, energetic, and plodding hard work. A man's 
character is not determined by what he says, but by what he does ; not 
words, but hard blows in the right place. How much of my life have 
I not wasted in the indulgence of reveries ! The truth is, that tender 
sensibilities are precious endowments, and nothing noble can be done 
without them; but unless they be educated and sanctified, unless to 
them be added the habit of hardy, painstaking labor, we shall (as in 
other things, so in religion) degenerate into mere dreamers of day- 
dreams, and builders of castles in the air, and fritter away life in 
doing nothing, in a muling and mawkish sentimentality." 

In the spirit of this letter he girded himself for the work, 
the double work of Ezra and Nehemiah, — the expounder of 
the law, and the superintendent of the building. His plan 
was to visit and preach in different places, and, before dismis- 
sion, to make a brief statement of the case. In this way he 
visited, and secured subscriptions in, most of the larger towns 
of Carolina and Georgia. The work was a little strange to 
him, and subjected him to some peculiar trials. 

" But what a conceited fool am I" (he writes) " to be minding so 
much the mortification of my feelings ! Much that we call delicacy is, 
I am sure, sinful. Is there any thing to be ashamed of in any work 
to which my Lord can call me ? Much have I suffered, and must still 
encounter, in my present work ; but it is 'a great work,' and I will 
go in the strength of the Lord God." 

In that strength he prosecuted the work with so much 
spirit and success as to earn the title of "Prince of Beggars.,? 



100 LIFE OF BICHABD FULLER. 

as he has since been called "Prince of Preachers." The 
good people in the places where he visited used to tell of 
his famous "calf story," — how he would draw tears from 
the eyes and many dollars from the pockets of the hearers 
by his pathetic account of a poor widow of the flock in Beau- 
fort, who, in looking over her little property for a contribu- 
tion, found that a calf some one had given her was the most 
valuable thing she had, and, selling it, laid the little sum on 
the altar as her mite. 

The building was soon in progress. " So they stregthened 
their hands for this good work." 

He writes, under date May, 1843, to the same friend in 
Augusta, Ga., — 

" So many engagements waiting for me ! — pastor, planter, architect, 
carpenter, mason, stone-cutter, correspondent, listener to the garrulity 
of the present, reader of and replier to the absurdities of the absent, 
peace-maker, receiver of duns, &c. To my other occupations I 
have now added that of establishing a good choir. I mention this, 
because I must beg Brother B. to exert himself in that matter. He 
is himself most competent, and your church would be a different 
place if there were good singers enough sitting together to give a 
more compact and commanding energy to the music. In Macon it is 
really execrable. Do ask W. to give himself to this thing in Augusta, 
and write to K. about it. Binney has done nothing in Savannah so 
effectually promoting his work as establishing a choir. In most of 
our churches the music seems especially got up to freeze devotion, 
and defeat both the praying and preaching. 

' ' I cannot but hope that God means to bless us here. I see some 
feeling; and when I visit the unconverted, and talk with them (and 
I mean to do it more than ever), I find them anxious and attentive. 
But we are in a miserable little house, — in summer an oven. Even 
the Pope would scarcely put us into another purgatory after two 
summers' frying here. By fall, however, we shall have our new house 
done. Meanwhile I trust God will bless us, and vouchsafe me the 
joy of seeing him so as I have seen him in the sanctuary." 

' ' For the people had a mind to work ; ' ' and the work 
was approaching its completion. Mr. Beaubien, the French- 
man, lived just over the way, and was watching it with in- 



PASTOBATE IN BEAUFORT.— NEW CHURCH. 101 

terest. With the quick e} T e of a man of taste, he noticed 
some defect in the plan of the tower. " I regret that," said 
he, pointing it out to Mr. Fuller one day. " How much do 
you regret it?" asked his old lawj-er : " what will you give 
to remedy it?" The change was made, the tower im- 
proved, and the Frenchman's interest secured. 

While the hammer of the workman was echoing in the 
building, the efforts of the minister were redoubled in the 
work of the spiritual temple. In the spring of 1844 a meet- 
ing was held in the Tabernacle. The beloved Wyer came 
from Savannah, and the two went forth into the vineyard. 
At sunrise an inquiry and prayer meeting was held, in the 
evening the usual service. Many of the people were still 
on the plantations ; but they heard of the good work, and the 
growing interest, and the frequent conversions. " The grace 
of our Lord was exceeding abundant with faith and love 
which is in Christ Jesus." The spring of the year was also 
a spring-time and season of refreshing from above. Around 
and over the willows and elms near the old Tabernacle the 
angels of God were ascending and descending on ministra- 
tions of mercy ; and white-robed candidates went down into 
the water when the tide was up, and the songs of Zion again 
mingled with the music of the waves. 

It was at this time that he wrote out of a full heart : — 

March, 1844. 
I have resolved this year to visit regularly and frequently, and 
pray everywhere with the people. I am satisfied more of this is to be 
done before people will feel a minister. The other morning, as the 
bell was about to ring for service, two messages came from persons 
begging me not to go to church before seeing them. I hastened off. 
The first case was a most ungodly old man. An abscess had sud- 
denly broken, and I found him nearly gone. As I entered, he caught 
my hand, and said, "It is come at last." I called on his companion 
to kneel ; and, while I cried to God, he held me with the grasp of one 
imploring help. He died that afternoon. The other case, a young 
girl whom I had baptized the year before. She had been well, seem- 
ingly, the night before ; but hemorrhages prostrated her. She could 



102 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

only whisper; but her last words were (as I spoke to her of heaven), 
" There I shall be at rest." Scenes like these are needed by me, and 
I hope these have taught me much. I have no more doubt as to eter- 
nal things than if they were forever before my eyes. Yet can I say 
my " faith is the substance of things hoped for" ? How inadequate 
the every-day influence of these tremendous realities ! In the pulpit 
I feel ever as if all the solemnities of the judgment were at hand. 
Oh, how difficult to live always under the pressure of that day! 
Grace, grace ! or else our holiest duties would ruin us forever. 
Our church is almost done. 

E. Fuller. 

It was a blessed day when the new house was opened and 
dedicated to the worship of God, but happier still that they 
should compass the newty-built altars on the tide of a reli- 
gious awakening. Unlike the second temple, which was so 
inferior to the first that those who remembered the old house 
wept at the contrast, the new church, in this case,-*was in 
every respect so superior to the old, that the feeling was 
one of unmingled joy and congratulation. And none were 
happier that morning than Miss Harriet and "Aunt Judy." 
Who knows what feelings were stirring in the Frenchman's 
heart ? 



WOBK AMONG THE COLORED PEOPLE. 103 



CHAPTER XIV. 

WORK AMONG THE COLORED PEOPLE. 

" But our captain counts the image of Ood, nevertheless, his image, cut in ebony, 
as if done in ivory." 

LORD MACAULAY writes, "Two odious things- to me 
are the slave-driver and the negrophile," — the hard 
task-master, and the fanatic who asks that the millennium 
should come in a day. Both ignore those laws of gradual 
elevation and improvement for our race, which, like the slow 
physical changes on the surface of the planet, constitute 
plainly the divine order. Nations, like children, have their 
periods of birth and development. The moral as well as the 
civil law must therefore, to some extent, be regulated by 
these conditions of society. It is a scale of necessary 
accommodation, growing out of the double facts of human 
imperfection and human progress. What is innocent with a 
child may be wrong in a man. What may be innocent, and 
even necessary, in one stage of a nation's progress, may be 
wrong, and full of peril, in a more advanced period. The 
internecine wars of the Israelites with the Canaanites, the 
practice of polygamy at first among the Jews, were mat- 
ters, which, in an age of comparative rudeness, involved no 
necessary sin or conscious guilt ; while at a more advanced 
period these things were stamped as criminal both in the 
law of God and the consciences of men. It is the law of 
progress and necessary adaptation which explains many of 
the moral as well as civil regulations of the Bible. 



104 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

Of all problems in the history of this country, not one was 
more critical from the beginning than that of the relations 
and destin}^ of the colored people. Introduced as slaves by 
our common ancestors, and multiplying by natural laws to 
a greater extent at the South, the race was naturally held 
in bondage in that section, when, from material as well as 
moral considerations, slavery was abolished at the North. 
Situated, then, as the Southern people were before the war, 
there was not only no violation of the moral law in holding 
their slaves, but, if they had passed some sudden and violent 
law of emancipation, that would have been an act of immorali- 
t} T , as involving a denial of their proper responsibilities, and 
as fatal to a future and more permanent elevation of the 
race. Now that slavery has been abolished forever as the 
law of the land, the Southern people have not only accepted 
the fact, but accepted it with cheerfulness. The two sec- 
tions are not only brought into closer civil and political rela- 
tions, but the re-action from previous estrangement must 
bring Christians of every name into greater sympathy with 
each other, and so prepare the way for future and more 
glorious triumphs of the cross. 

Before the war, the churches at the South, accepting the 
charge which God had committed to them in the presence of 
the colored race, addressed themselves to meet it. There 
were difficulties and peculiar trials in the relations of the 
races, as there are now perplexities in adjusting the delicate 
balances between capital and labor ; but, with serious Chris- 
tians at the South, this but increased the sense of their 
responsibility, and their efforts to meet it. 

The Baptist church in Beaufort was made up largely of the 
colored people. The} T enjoj-ed the regular sabbath services 
in common with the whites, the instructions of a school 
immediately after the morning service, and a weekly lecture 
in their own separate meeting-house. Besides these privi- 
leges in the town, by employing the best gifts of the colored 



WOBK AMONG THE COLOBED PEOPLE. 105 

members, meetings for prayer and exhortation were kept 
up in the country, thus insuring some supervision of the 
scattered membership. Branch churches were formed at 
convenient stations, and preaching supplied by the pastor or 
assistant or deacons of the mother- church. 

This feature and department of the work at once com- 
mended itself to Richard Fuller on his conversion ; and, on 
his ordination as a minister, it became at once with him a 
matter of very great solicitude. In a letter to a friend on 
this subject, he said, " I had resolved, when first called to the 
ministry, to confine my labors wholly to our colored popula- 
tion. I was prevented by the hand of God." 

But, though he did not confine his labors to this class, he 
was abundant in his labors for their welfare. In the pulpit 
on Sunda} T , when dense multitudes of them filled the galle- 
ries, during the week at their lecture-room, or at the branch 
churches on St. Helena Island or at Huspa on the main, he 
was " instant in season and out of season " in preaching the 
gospel to the poor. " The common people heard Him glad- 
ly," because they felt His s}'mpathy, and could understand 
Him. So the humblest negro had his share of the feast 
where Richard Fuller presided, as well as the most refined 
worshipper. Often would the preacher — as he warmed with 
his subject, and began to draw the gospel net for some final 
cast and closing appeal — turn directly to the dense masses in 
the galleries, and, with all the earnestness and affection of his 
soul, address himself directly to that portion of the audience. 

The communion sabbaths, or " quarterly seasons " as they 
were called, were great days of the feast with the church. 
The accessions of colored members were generally large on 
these occasions. In a long procession, headed by one of the 
colored deacons, they would file in at one aisle, hear a short 
address from the pastor, receive the hand of fellowship, and 
then file out hy the other aisle to their seats in the galleries. 
The service was usually concluded with the hymn, — 



106 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

" Blest be the tie that binds 
Our hearts in Christian love." 

Sung by those thousands, it was a grander effect than any- 
trained band of vocal or instrumental performers could pro- 
duce. As preacher and people, master and servant, united in 
the chorus, sweeter than Haydn's " Oratorio of the Creation" 
rose the Christian hymn of the new creation, where there is 
"neither Greek nor Jew, . . . Barbarian, Scythian, bond 
nor free ; but Christ is all, and in all." 

Jonas Singleton, "Aunt Judy's" son, was an esteemed 
member of the church. Not many years ago he moved with 
his aged mother to Augusta, Ga., where he acted as deacon 
of the Springfield church, and occasionally as a supply for 
the pulpit. He was a man of more than ordinary ability, 
and could speak to edification and with effect as his name- 
sake the prophet did at Nineveh. His impressions of 
Richard Fuller will show the general feeling of his people. 
Since writing the following note, he has gone to his reward. 

Augusta, G-a., February, 1877. 

Being a citizen of Beaufort, S.C., I knew him as early as 1828. I 
am sure he was practising law in 1830. He was then a member of the 
Episcopal Church, and one of the finest gentlemen and most success- 
ful lawyers in the State. Between 1830 and 1832 he was converted 
to the Baptist faith, and united with the Baptist Church. He began 
immediately to preach the gospel. He preached with great power, 
and aid of the Holy Spirit. He was one of the best masters in the 
State, and much loved by his slaves. His capacity was too great for 
our town, and so we were deprived of him by his being called to 
Baltimore. 

He had united in him the largest proportion of greatness and good- 
ness of any man I ever knew. Were it possible to gain heaven by 
merit, he would have been among the number; but he has inherited 
it by mercy. His favorite hymns were from Watts' s selection: — 

" Salvation, oh the joyful sound! " 
and, — 

" How can I sink with such a prop * 
As my eternal G-od? " 

My mother is still living; but her mind is too feeble to express 



WOBK AMONG THE COLORED PEOPLE. 107 

any thing but her love for him. She is now a hundred and two years 
old. She sends much love. Eespectfully yours, 

Jonas Singleton. 

But the recollection of Richard Fuller, and his work and 
labor of love, is cherished by multitudes besides "Aunt 
Judy " and her son. At the close of the war, it was thought 
advisable that Chief Justice Chase should visit the seaboard 
of Carolina on a tour of inspection as to the changed rela- 
tions of the freedrnen, and the bearing of the laws on these. 
The relations between Dr. Fuller and Mr. Chase were of a 
friendly if not intimate character. An invitation, accord- 
ingly, was sent to Dr. Fuller, and accepted, to make the visit 
to his old home with Mr. Chase. The trip was made in a 
revenue cutter. The visit to Beaufort and the adjoining 
island has been so well described by " Agate," the corre- 
spondent of " The Cincinnati Gazette," that we quote it, — 
the portions referring to the old pre aching- station on St. 
Helena, and the second service in Beaufort. As we read 
the sketch, we hear the refrain of the old communion- 
Irymn coming up again after the silence of years. We see a 
touching illustration of the essential unity of the race, that 
He " hath made of one blood all nations of men for to 
dwell on all the face of the earth," in this Christian fellow- 
ship between the soul " carved in the Creator's image in 
ivory" and the soul cut in the same image "in ebony." 
In the light of a more recent event, it will look, too, like the 
scene at Bethan} T , when Mary anointed her Lord with the 
precious nard, with a kind of blind instinct and presentiment 
of his approaching end. 

"THE 'MEETTNV 

"While our party stood looking about this scene of the past, a 
white-woolled deacon came, with the politeness, if not the grace, of 
an old-world master of ceremonies to summon us: ' De people is gath- 
ered, sah, and was ready for the suvvices to begin.' It was a natural 
sensation when the major-generals, the chief justice, and the ladies of 



108 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

the party, were led through the crowd to the little platform under 
the live-oaks; but it was when Eev. Dr. Fuller — ' Massa Richard ' — 
made his appearance that the wondering stare brightened, and eyes 
grew moist, and ancient negresses could be heard vehemently whis- 
pering, ' Bress de Lod, bress de Lod ! ' ' Hebenly Marster ! ' ' Gra- 
a-ate King ! ' No word had been sent of our coming, and it was but 
within the last half-hour that the old slaves of Dr. Fuller heard that 
he was to address them. There was no way of estimating the num- 
ber of those in attendance (he had owned between two and three 
hundred); but probably half of them were now at Beaufort. Every 
adult negro in the assemblage, however, seemed to know him. 

" The scene was a striking one. In front of us was the old church; 
behind, the new schoolhouse. Half a dozen superb live-oaks spread 
their gnarled branches over us, the silvery, pendulous streamers of 
Spanish moss floating down, and flecking with the sunlight the up- 
turned faces of the great congregation of negroes ; while the breezes 
made mournful music among the leaves, and the mocking-birds sent 
back a livelier refrain. The little valley between the platform and 
the church was finally packed with negroes, all standing, and, as the 
deacon told us, ' eagah fur de Wud.' They clustered, too, about the 
platform, leaned over the railing behind and at the sides, and spread 
away in all directions among the carts and wagons that formed a sort 
of outer line of defences. 

" A quaint old African, clad in cotton checks, and bowed with 
many years of cotton-hoeing, stepped out on the platform where all 
this party had been seated. Leaning like a patriarch on his cane, 
and gently swaying his body to and fro over it as if to keep time, he 
struck up, in a shrill, cracked voice, a curiously monotonous melody, 
in which, in si moment, the whole congregation were energetically 
joining. For the first time, I observed what had often been told me 
(though I had never before realized it), that the languages of these 
sea-islanders (and I am told, that, to some extent, the same is true 
of the majority of plantation-hands in South Carolina) is an almost 
unintelligible patois. Listening carefully to the swaying old leader, I 
found it almost impossible for a time to make out his meaning; and 
the vocal contortions to which the simplest words seemed to subject 
him was a study that would have amazed a phonetic lecturer. The 
words were those of an old song which our soldiers found them sing- 
ing shortly after the fall of Bay Point : — 

' Ma-a-a-assa Fullah a-sittin' on de tree ob life, 
Ma-a-a-assa Fullah a-sittin' on de tree ob life : 

Roll, Jordan, roll ! 
Ma-a-a-assa Fullah a-sittin' on de tree ob life : 

Roll, Jordan, roll ! ' 



WORK AMONG THE COLORED PEOPLE. 109 

"And so on, with repetitions that promised'to be endless. The grate- 
ful negroes had cherished the memory of Dr. Fuller, who had aban- 
doned his large legal practice to preach to them, and, long after his 
departure to the North, had still kept his name green among them by 
thus associating it with their ideas of heaven. But as freedom came, 
and no Dr. Fuller with it, they gradually forgot the old benefactor, 
and substituted the name of the new one. To them, Gen. Saxton was 
law and order and right. He secured their plantations ; he got them 
rations till they were able to support themselves ; he decided disputes, 
defended privileges, maintained quiet, and was the embodiment of 
justice; and so it gradually came to pass that ' Gen. Saxby,' as with a 
ludicrous persistence they still call him, took the place of ' Ma-a-a-assa 
Fullah ' in the song. The presence of the good doctor recalled their 
old love, and they gave him the first place : but they could not depose 
their later favorite and greater benefactor; and so, after interminable 
repetitions, we came to the second stanza: — 

' Gren-e-ul Sa-a-axby a-sittin' on de tree ob life, 
Gen-e-ul Sa-a-axby a-sittin' on de tree ob life : 

Roll, Jordan, roll ! 

Gen-e-ul Sa-a-axby a-sittin' on de tree ob life : 

Roll, Jordan roll ! ' 

" The patriarchal old African, swaying on his cane before the con- 
gregation, threw the whole power of his lungs into the harsh tones 
with which the concluding ' ro-o-o-oll ' was given ; and then came the 
great feat of the African reception to the visitors. Wherever we had 
been, the negroes seemed to know something of Mr. Chase. Their 
ideas were very vague ; but they thought, that, in some way, he was a 
great large friend of theirs, who had done something or another foi 
them (what they scarcely knew), and was to be held beside ' Linkum' 
in their esteem. So now, with a droll look of intelligence toward the 
crowd, and particularly toward a group of open-faced, enthusiastic 
young fellows, who seemed to be the main dependence for promptly 
supplying the volume of sound, the antique leader struck out in 
harsher tones and more indescribably bewildering difficulties of pro- 
nunciation than ever, — 

• Me-is-ta-ah Cbe-a-ase a-sittin' on de tree ob life, 
Me-is-ta-ab Cbe-a-ase a-sittin' on de tree ob life : 

Roll, Jordan, roll! 
Me-is-ta-ab Cbe-a-ase a-sittin' on de tree ob life : 

Roll, Joi'dan, roll! ' 

" The chorus was sung with a vehemence that pierced the ears, 
and swayed the leaflets of the live-oaks above our heads; while 



110 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

pickaninnies crowed, and their mothers smiled, and there was a 
general bustle in the crowd, and all fixed beaming eyes — who has 
not admired the deep, liquid ox-eye of the Southern negro ? — upon 
the embarrassed chief justice, whom they were establishing in all 
his avoirdupois on the identical limb where Dr. Fuller and Gen. 
' Saxby ' were already perched. 

"the planter's address. 

" When Dr. Fuller came to speak to them, they evidently under- 
stood him, and undoubtedly meant to obey his instructions. When, 
for example, he told them, that, at the North, their enemies were 
declaring that they would be idle and dissolute, and asked if they 
were going thus to bring shame upon those who had befriended them, 
there was an emphasis of response, and an earnestness in the looks 
men and women gave each other, that spoke both for their under- 
standing and their intentions. 'I know that new machinery will 
work a little rough,' said the doctor. ' I am not surprised that at 
first there were some blunders and faults ; but it is time you had got 
over that. If a man who has been shut up for a long time in a dark 
room is suddenly brought to light, it dazzles his eyes, and he is apt 
to stumble. Well, then, what will you do ? Put him back in the dark 
again?' — 'No, no!' energetically exclaimed the crowd, with many 
an earnest shake of the head. ' What then? ' 

" ' Tell him what to do,' suggested some. ' Lead him a little 
while,' whispered others. ' Give him more light!' at last exclaimed 
the doctor ; and it was curious to watch the pleased noddings of the 
woolly heads, the shakings of the turbans, the sensation, exchange of 
smiles, and other indications that the doctor's solution of the diffi- 
culty was thoroughly understood in its application to their own con- 
dition. 

" Mr. Chase followed in a few words of calm advice as to the 
necessity of industry, economy, study, and the like. When he added, 
that, for his own part, he believed, too, that the best way to teach 
them to swim in the ocean of suffrage was to throw them in, and let 
them take care of themselves, the emphatic nods and smiles, and 
cries of ' Yes, yes ! ' showed that the figure was not thrown away 
upon them. 

"the planter among his slaves. 

" But there remained a scene that showed how, if not anxious to 
return to their old masters, they were still sometimes glad to have 



WOBK AMONG THE COLORED PEOPLE. HI 

their old masters return to them. Dr. Fuller rose to pronounce the 
benediction, and all reverently bowed their heads, — the proud mothers 
and hopeful children, likely plantation-hands, gray-headed and gray- 
bearded patriarchs like one who stood at my elbow, and, black though 
he was, looked so like the busts we have of Homer, that I could 
hardly realize him to be merely a ' worn-out negro,' — bowed alto- 
gether before God, — the freedmen and the major-generals, the tur- 
baned young women from the plantations, and the flower of Northern 
schools and society, the woolly-headed urchins who could just remem- 
ber that they once ' belonged to ' somebody, and the Chief Justice 
of the United States. 

" The few words of blessing were soon said; and then came a rush 
to the stand ' to speak to Massa Eichard.' Men and women pressed 
forward indiscriminately. The good doctor in a moment found both 
his hands busy, and stood like a patriarchal shepherd amid his flock. 
They pushed up against him, kissed his hands, passed their fingers 
over his hair, crowded about, eager to get a word of recognition. 
'Sure you 'member me, Massa Eich'd : I'm Tom.' 'Laws, Massa 
Eich'd, I mind ye when's ye's a little un.' 'Don't ye mind, Massa 
Eich'd, when I used to gwine out gunnin' wid ye ? ' ' How's ye been 
dis long time ? ' ' 'Pears like we's never gwine to see 'ou any more; 
but, bress de Lord ! you'm cum.' ' Oh, we's gitting on cum'table 
like; but ain't 'ou gwine to cum back and preach to us sometimes ? ' 
So the string of interrogations and salutations stretched out. ' I 
haven't liked him much,' said an officer of our cutter, standing near, 
whose rough and ready oaths had sometimes provoked the rebuke of 
the doctor; 'but I take back every harsh thought. I'd give all I'm' 
worth, or ever hope to be worth in the world, to be loved by as many 
people as love him.' 

"axothee striking kegeo-meeten~g. 

" In the evening there was another immense meeting of negroes 
in the outskirts of Beaufort. It was again found that no church 
would hold them, and so God's first temples — it must have been live- 
oak groves Bryant thought of when he wrote the well-known lines — 
were again sought. Crowding through the throng that obstructed all 
the approaches, and ascending the platform, one was struck with 
the impressiveness of a scene as peculiar as that in the morning on 
St. Helena, and yet widely differing from it. Great live-oaks again 
reared their stately pillars of gray, and spread their glorious canopy 
of green, beside and above the platform ; and negroes, old and young, 
again spread out in a sea of black humanity before us. But for the 



112 LIFE OF RICH ABB FULLER. 

rows of carts, and the old meeting-house, and the moss-grown grave- 
stones, that shut in the view on St.. Helena, we had here the serried 
ranks of two full regiments of negroes. Black urchins clambered up 
into the live-oak boughs above our heads ; black girls adjusted their 
scarfs, and fidgeted about the front of the platform; white-woolled 
but black-faced old men leaned up against the railing. The mass of 
the congregation in front were women ; and as for the young men, 
they were clad in blue, and they stood in ranks outside the rest. 

"The sermonizing, singing, and speech-making need hardly be 
described. Given the occasion and the circumstances, and what 
weary reader of the papers cannot tell, to the very turn of the climax 
and the polish of the peroration, the nature of the speeches ? But it 
was worthy of note that the orators found the audience to their 
liking, and on the point of intelligence your popular orator is exact- 
ing. ' I have been in the habit of addressing all sorts of people,' 
said Dr. Fuller, ' but never felt so intensely the inspiration of a deeply- 
sympathizing audience.' Two or three humorous little sallies were 
caught with a quickness and zest that showed how understandingly 
they were following the speaker ; and at times the great audience — 
greater than Cooper Institute could hold — was swaying to and fro, 
weeping, then laughing, in the agitation of a common passion the 
orator had evoked. They seemed to know all about the chief justice, 
and clamored for him, till, as he stood up for a moment, the thunder 
of the cheers swayed the Spanish moss that hung in pendent 
streamers above our heads, and made the leaves of the live-oaks 
quiver as if a gale were blowing through the branches. 

" But it was when the ' exercises' were over that the real interest 
of the occasion was brought out. Not less than a hundred of Dr. 
Fuller's former slaves were in the audience. The moment the bene- 
diction was pronounced, they made a rush for the platform, and the 
good doctor found his path blocked up at the steps. * Lod bress ye, 
Massa Bich'd! was afeard 'ud never see ye ag'in.' ' Don't you know 
me, Massa Bich'd? I'm aunt Chloe.' 'Pears like ye wan't never 
comin' no more." And all the while a vigorous hand-shaking and 
hand-kissing went on, and the former master standing on the steps, 
and looking benevolently down into upturned faces that fairly shone 
with joy and excitement. 

" Presently one of the aunties, whose happiness was altogether too 
exuberant for words, struck up a wild chant ; and in a moment half 
a hundred voices had joined her. She strode with clasped hands and 
beaming face, balancing from one foot to the other in a sort of 
measured dance, sometimes stopping a moment to shout ' Glory ! ' and 



WORK AMONG THE COLORED PEOPLE. 113 

then resuming with yet more enthusiasm ; while the former slaves still 
kept crowding up, feeling the doctor's hair, passing their hands over 
his shoulders, clustering lingeringly about him, and joining with deep- 
throated emphasis in the chant. Soon other women had approached 
the swaying leader. Two or three clasped hands. There was the 
same animal, half-hysteric excitement, the same intoxication of the 
affections, which we had witnessed in the morning on St. Helena: 
while, meantime, a few middle-aged negroes, who gave no other 
marks of excitement than a perfectly gratified expression of counte- 
nance, quietly engaged the doctor in conversation; told him some- 
thing of their life since they had become freemen, their hardships, 
and their final prosperity. The women kept up the singing. More 
and more negroes were joining the circle about the former planter as 
we pushed through and left them to themselves. Long lines of 
soldiers were marching away, their glistening bayonets setting the 
red rays of the sinking sun to flickering in grotesque lights and 
shades over the shouting and dancing slaves. On the outskirts stood 
a group of interested spectators, — officers, traders, agents of different 
departments of the government. A few ladies wonderingly looked on. 
The breeze was fluttering the flags over the platform ; and the slaves 
were still singing, and kissing their former master's hand. It was 
our last sight of Beaufort." - 



114 LIFE OF RICH ABB FULLER. 



CHAPTER XV. 



SCHOOL OF THE PROPHETS. 



" And the sons of the prophets that were at Bethel came forth to Elisha." 

2 Kings, ii. 3. 

AN earnest life is fruitful in influence, as a ship in rapid 
motion will not only send forth waves on either side, 
but cause them to rise, and follow swiftly behind. The life 
of Richard Fuller was productive of other results besides 
the winning of souls to Christ and the direct building-up of 
the Church. He soon found himself surrounded bj a num- 
ber of young men anxious to devote themselves to the 
ministry. 

Thomas Hopkins, a young lawyer of strong character, and 
decidedly sceptical views before his conversion ; Marion 
Sams, a young man of fine talents, and in easy circum- 
stances ; A. D. Cohen, a converted Israelite, of good ad- 
dress, and full of zeal ; R. W. Fuller, a son of Dr. Thomas 
Fuller, who, after his graduation at Princeton, had been led 
to Christ on the occasion of his brother Middleton's death, 
when he laid his rare gifts at the Saviour's feet ; another, 
also a nephew of the Beaufort pastor, — these constituted 
this school of the prophets. 

Most, if not all, of these young men had recently gradu- 
ated at some classical school or college. By a course of 
theological study under the direction of the pastor, they con- 
cluded to prepare for the work of the ministry. Said the 
pastor to one of them, " I will send you, if you wish, at my 



SCHOOL OF THE PBOPHETS. 115 

expense, to some seminary." — "No," replied the 3 T oung 
man: "I can study with you here." It would have saved 
a great deal of hard intellectual sweating in subsequent 
years if these students had availed themselves of the s} t s- 
tematic training of some good seminar} T . But, if any one 
man was able to supply the place of many professors, it was 
the pastor of the Beaufort church. He had an excellent 
libraiy ; was himself a hard student ; while in his preaching, 
and pastoral work, he was giving the best practical illustra- 
tion of all. He made out a list of standard works on the- 
olog}*, which the young men added to their stock from time 
to time. 

Taking them into his study, he explained to them the 
nature and use of their weapons. He showed them his own 
method, at that time, of preparing his sermons. "This," 
he said, " is the result of close study as to the best way of 
presenting truth." After a prayerful and thorough study 
of the text, the sermon was written in a condensed wa} T on 
two sheets of paper divided into four columns. It was, no 
doubt, a suggestion and improvement of the lawyer's brief. 
It had the advantage of a written discourse, without the 
disadvantage of close reading from a manuscript. Most of 
the 3'oung men adopted this plan of preparing their sermons 
at first, but either modified it or dispensed with it after- 
wards, as circumstances and individual peculiarities de- 
manded the change. Dr. Fuller himself, in the latter period 
of his ministry, dispensed with his notes altogether in the 
pulpit. 

Soon it was arranged for the young men to lead the 
pra}-er-meetings, and then to preach alternately on Sunday 
afternoon, — the time of the second service. Of all the 
patient hearers of these fledgling preachers, there was not 
one more patient and considerate than the great preacher 
himself. His criticisms were as kind as the} T were wise and 
faithful. If he laughed, as he sometimes would, at some 



116 LIFE OF BICHARD FULLER. 

extravagance of matter or manner, and there was a little 
wincing for a moment, it was a lasting benefit. The rela- 
tion formed the basis of a life-long sympathy and friendship. 
Rev. Mr. Hopkins went to Texas, where he died soon 
afterwards. Rev. Mr. Sams, on account of delicate health, 
was obliged to desist from regular preaching. He gave him- 
self to the work of education, and became a successful and 
popular teacher. Rev. A. D. Cohen is a beloved pastor in 
North Carolina. Rev. R. W. Fuller was called to succeed 
his uncle in the Beaufort church on the departure of the lat- 
ter to Baltimore. On account of delicate health he was 
soon compelled to stop all public speaking, and retire from a 
church which had learned to love the nephew almost as much 
as the uncle. For a short time he was pastor of the First 
Baptist Church in Atlanta, G-a. ; but, his health again fail- 
ing, he has since given himself to the noble cause of plead- 
ing for the orphans in Georgia, and, later still, to an agency 
in behalf of Mercer University. In originality of thought, 
unction of spirit, and pathetic tenderness of appeal, his ser- 
mons will not suffer by comparison with his uncle's. As 
evidence of his discrimination of character, and powers of 
description, as well as the expression of a natural and strong 
affection, we will introduce a part of the sketch (lately 
published in "The Index)," of one whom he very tenderly 
loved : — 

"It must be admitted that he had many natural advantages as a 
pulpit orator. His personal appearance was commanding. In figure 
he was tall and graceful. His face, though far from being handsome, 
was capable of expressing with exquisite precision each varying 
shade of emotion ; and his voice possessed both compass and melody. 
These bodily gifts were assiduously cultivated by him. He well 
knew, that, for the most effective speaking, there should be a sound 
mind in a sound body; and no article of food, no insnaring but inju- 
rious luxury, could tempt him to impair the organs of that frame 
which he had consecrated to the service of Jesus. His intellectual 
powers, too, were admirably adapted to the pulpit. His mind was 



SCHOOL OF THE PROPHETS. 117 

iiot metaphysical ; and, though logical, he had little relish for close 
and continuous argumentation. He saw with intuitive distinctness 
and vividness the results to which trains of reasoning would lead ; and, 
seizing upon these results, he would present them with a clearness 
of statement and a force of delivery which seldom failed to convince 
the minds of his hearers. 

" It was, however, in his powers of imagination and pathos that 
his great strength lay. Many who have heard him can remember 
how he has held immense audiences entranced, unconscious of time 
or place, trembling or weeping, at the will of the enchanter. 

"Another cause of his pulpit efficiency, which, though secondary, 
should not be overlooked, was his cheerfulness of disposition. A 
minister's work, though the reverse of being gloomy, is a serious 
work. In his study, in his pulpit, in his visits to the sick, the dying, 
and the bereaved, his occupation calls into play only the serious and 
oftentimes the saddest emotions of the heart. If these feelings were 
indulged at the expense of all others, then those lighter qualities of 
mind and heart, which were designed by God to relieve the weariness 
resulting from severe labor, would perish through disuse; and the 
higher powers of the mind, and the profounder emotions of the heart, 
kept continually upon the stretch, would lose their freshness and 
vigor from the want of necessary relaxation. Hence we find that 
the most eminent and successful preachers were remarkable for their 
cheerfulness in private life. This is true of Whitefield, Dr. Chalmers, 
and Robert Hall. Like these men, to whom he was akin in genius, 
Dr. Fuller possessed a rich vein of humor ; and in his home, when 
the labors of the day were over, his entrance into the family-circle 
was hailed as the incoming of sunshine. The sparkle of his wit, the 
overflowing fun of his descriptions, the quickness of his repartee, 
and the contagion of his laugh, were irresistible. No one who ever 
enjoyed an evening at his house can forget the brilliant and humor- 
ous sayings that seemed to come so easily and freshly to his lips. 
This was the unbending of the strong bow in preparation for more 
vigorous work. 

"Without work there can be no success, and to the close of his life 
Dr. Fuller was a laborious student. Though the natural powers of 
his mind were great, he never depended upon their unassisted 
strength. Whatever he had to do, — whether a sermon was to be 
preached, or a short address delivered, — it was done with careful 
preparation. In preparing for the sabbath, he usually selected his 
text on the Sunday or Monday previous; and to the study of this 
text the morning of each day was entirely devoted. , One who 



118 LIFE OF BICHABD FULLER. 

entered his study at this time of day would have seen a number of 
books scattered on the floor, or lying open on the table, and enclosing 
a sheet of foolscap paper, covered with the most singular hieroglyph- 
ics, among which a real letter might here and there be discovered, 
amid scratches and curves, and figures shaped like partially-inflated 
balloons. This is the sermon for the coming sabbath growing into 
full maturity. If the visitor should enter, this is what he would see. 
What he might hear, I do not know. A proper degree of prudence 
would suggest a postponement of the visit to a later hour ; for now 
the lion is intent upon his prey. So absorbed was Dr. Fuller in his 
studies during the morning, that he was often unconscious of the 
apparent rudeness with which he would sometimes repel any inter- 
ruption of his work. Had the visitor thus repelled selected a more 
auspicious moment for his call, he would scarcely have recognized 
the annoyed student in the courteous, gentle, large-hearted Christian 
who seemed to feel for every fellow-man as a brother. This we do 
not offer as an excuse. Still it is to be remembered that the preacher 
whose hours of study have been made empty by the gossip of visitors 
will, on the sabbath, become only a sounding-board for that empti- 
ness in the pulpit. This is not desirable; and Dr. Fuller was at 
least right in allowing nothing but cases of urgent necessity to inter- 
fere with his hours of preparation. 

" To this careful preparation he owed much of his success; but the 
power which was chiefly felt in his preaching was the result of devo- 
tional habits. He seemed to live in the presence of Jesus. Every 
hour and place was to him an hour and place of prayer. Early in 
the morning he would retire from all company to be alone with God. 
I have heard him say that he entered into no work, and engaged in 
no recreation, without prayer. Though by nature he was eminently 
social, still his love for ' communion with the skies ' led to a life of 
comparative isolation from his fellow-men. ' None but Jesus ' was 
the motto and guiding principle of his life ; ' none but Jesus ' was 
the theme of his ministry ; ' none but Jesus ' were the words en- 
graved in letters of love upon his great heart. Under the influence 
of this devotion, his utterances from the pulpit were marked by a 
living freshness of thought and an overflowing tenderness of holy 
love. Every listener felt that there was a singular, a mysterious 
magic in the words of the speaker. The coldest heart would glow 
under the inspiring warmth; eyes long unused to weeping would 
become dim with tears ; and, in the solemnity of the hushed assem- 
bly, one could almost seem to hear the still small voice, saying, ' By 
my Spirit, saith the Lord of hosts.' As we write, the tones of that 



SCHOOL OF THE PROPHETS. 119 

holy eloquence come back to memory as in days long since gone. 
Once again we are sitting in the little church beside which the dear 
ashes of our dead repose; around, there are faces familiar to us from 
childhood, there are loved and venerable forms knit to us by ties of 
close relationship: but among them all who so loved, who so revered, 
as be whose voice of guidance and of cheer is giving a new impulse, 
a fresh ardor, a holier longing, to each worshipper hanging upon his 
lips ? How we all loved him ! " 

Another nephew of the pastor was in this school, — a 
school where the faithfulness of the teacher was blended 
with a familiar and affectionate intercourse. In the morning 
walk, the evening ride, the familiar talk in the stud}*, the 
weekly gatherings in the church or the old Tabernacle, this 
intercourse was kept up through the happy years. 

The first public address that one of these young men made 
after joining the church was naturally an embarrassing affair. 
In that crowd in the old Tabernacle were the faces of rela- 
tives, and not a few of those who had been plaj-mates at 
school. It was a trying thing for a young man to speak for 
the first time, without notes, to such an audience, about per- 
sonal religion. He essayed, however, to talk about the deal- 
ings of God, and the facts of his recent conversion, when, in 
that very room, he had been brought to bow in prayer, and 
in the adjoining yard had seen, or thought that he had seen, 
the angels of God ascending and descending among the elms 
and willows. 

Years afterwards, in a conversation with Dr. Fuller, the 
speaker referred to that occasion, and asked him if he 
remembered it, and the embarrassment and confusion of 
that address. " The occasion," said Dr. Fuller, " I remem- 
ber perfectly well. As to the confusion and the address, }*ou 
never preached any thing as good since." A few broken 
sentences coming from the heart were better alwa3's, in his 
judgment, than any mere studied, elaborate effort. 

Dashing along the river's bank one summer evening on 
horseback, we held up at a convenient place for a bath. As 



120 LIFE OF BICIIAED FULLER. 

we came out, and with difficulty got the sand off that was 
clinging to our feet, " Never before," said the doctor, " have 
I seen, as now, the meaning of the Saviour : ' He that is 
washed needeth not save to wash his feet, but is clean 
every whit.' " In a ride or walk, as much frequently could 
be learned from these apt observations and brilliant sallies 
as from the more formal and extended counsels of the study, 
pulpit, and lecture-room. 

And so, as the } T ears wore on, this school came to its close, 
as the old, every-day school reached the evening limit. 

And now, through the tears that like blinding rain 

Wrap the years that have crowded by, 
The form of the prophet is seen again, 

And the flash of the eagle-eye : 
Like the century-plant, in a hundred years 
But once, I ween, such a soul appears. 



EVANGELISM. 121 



CHAPTER XVI. 

EVANGELISM. 
" That I might by all means save some." — Paul. 

THERE is uniformhry in nature ; but it is not a dead uni- 
formitj'. The tides ebb and flow with perfect regularity ; 
but, by well-understood laws, they are subject to occasional 
checks or acceleration in the phenomena of neap or spring 
tides. So with the means of grace in the gospel. The 
regular preaching of the Word by men called and qualified 
by the Spirit is the ordinance of God for the salvation of 
men. But superadded to this is the occasional movement 
of the Spirit in the use of more extraordinary means ; and 
this is the work of the evangelist. Paul was an evangelist. 
Luther was a lion-hearted minister of this type. Whitefield 
was a captain of the Lord's hosts in this line of action. 
Daniel Baker was a prophet in the same school. It is a 
calling that demands peculiar gifts outside of the usual 
equipment of the minister, — tact, self-possession, course, 
s}'mpathy, and physical endowments, which belong only to a 
few. 

Richard Fuller was nearly as well fitted for this work as 
for that of the pastor. This was especially true of him in 
the earlier portion of his ministry, when his enthusiasm was 
fresh, and his physical powers in their prime. The work of 
every pastor is a protracted effort the year round. But it 
was a theory of Dr. Fuller's that these occasional additional 
services were important, if not essential, to the well-being of 
every church. 



122 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

Of the work in Beaufort, where he was aided by men like 
Wyer (who baptized him) and the sainted Binney, enough 
has been said. We speak now of his labors in other fields. 

Holcombe, the first Baptist pastor in Savannah, and Judge 
Cla}' on his conversion, labored on the adjoining islands, 
and, as we have seen, in Beaufort. The bread cast on the 
waters floated back to them. Soon after his ordination, 
Richard Fuller visited Savannah ; and his preaching at once 
awakened general interest. This was when the beloved 
"Wyer and Binney were pastors in that city. Just before 
he sailed from New York on his last voyage, Dr. Binney was 
on a brief visit to Washington, D.C. Looking wistfully at a 
picture of his old friend and colleague, Richard Fuller, in 
the parlor of a friend's house, he turned off, saying, " I, 
too, am near the end of my work;" and with his own 
sweet, peculiar smile, added, " and I am glad of it." It 
was the instinct of the traveller in sight of home. Soon 
afterwards he embarked for Burrnah, but died on the voyage 
out, and was buried in the Indian Ocean : — 

Where the wild monsoon thunders o'er the deep, 

The Karen teacher and another sleep, 

Who in the Burman jungle felt the smart 

Of wounds for Christ, — he of the lion-heart, — 

Both resting now beneath the Indian wave, 

Where God with gleaming pearls has marked their grave. 

A short time before sailing for Burmah, Dr. Binney wrote 
the following letter : — 

Philadelphia, May, 1877. 
Dr. Fuller was accustomed to visit Savannah once a year, and 
usually remained about two weeks. These visits were always antici- 
pated with much pleasure, not only by our own people, but by the 
citizens generally. The deacons and leading members, and the Rev. 
Mr. Wyer, for ten years the pastor of the church, before I went to 
Savannah, were in entire sympathy with Dr. Fuller, and gave him 
their hearty co-operation. In the other congregations, especially 



EVANGELISM. 123 

among the Episcopalians and Presbyterians, he had as warm friends 
and as interested hearers as in our own denomination ; and they were 
always of the higher class of the community. His sermons were 
eminently faithful to all classes; but my recollection is, that his 
greatest efforts were addressed to the unconverted. I often felt, that 
if his hearers did not go home with increased confidence in the divin- 
ity of the Bible, and more solicitude about their own souls, it was not 
because the subjects had not been clearly and forcibly presented. Hi's 
sermons were addressed to both the reason and the emotions of men. 
If there was any fault in them, it was that they were too much 
crowded with thought. To himself the subject seemed incomplete 
without this ; but the capacities of few men could carry with them 
the amount of thought, all of the greatest concern, which was given 
in every sermon he preached. 

During the discourse, every eye was upon him; and the house, 
ninety by sixty feet, completely filled below and in the galleries, was 
so quiet, that the least noise would have been a serious disturbance. 
By the rules of the church, one gallery was always reserved for the 
colored people ; and, when Dr. Fuller preached, it was well filled by 
the better class of their preachers and church-members. His texts 
were chosen, as his sermons were prepared and delivered, to produce 
the most and the best effect, and to secure that effect with the least 
delay. It will be a sad event if any of his hearers meet him in the 
other world without being better prepared for heaven by these efforts. 
As a pastor, I felt that he not only faithfully sought the conversion 
and spiritual good of the people, but his visits to Savannah aided 
me in elevating the position of our denomination in the city. The 
pastor could always preach easier and more effectively after one of his 
visits. In our Georgia Convention, which he often visited, he was a 
strong and good man; and men felt stronger and better from their 
intercourse with him. He was, I think, in the Baptist denomination, 
what his cousin, Bishop Elliott, was in the Episcopal denomination; 
and that is saying much for any man. My own relation to him was 
eminently satisfactory to myself; and I had reason to feel, from his 
uniform manner, that the feeling was truly reciprocated on his part. 
Affectionately yours, 

J. Gr. BlNNEY. 

Bishop Elliott, whose name occurs in this letter, followed 
Richard Fuller, it will be remembered, in the practice of law 
in Beaufort. He soon followed him in the ministr}-, though 
in another branch of the church. He was the son of the 



124 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

distinguished botanist, Stephen Elliott, and one of the most 
gifted and beloved prelates the Episcopal Church ever had in 
this country. Such was his popularity in Augusta, Ga., that 
some of his admirers, who loved music as well, would say, 
f in expectation of the annual visit, "We are glad of two 
things, — the bishop is coming, and the opera." In their 
deprecation of an undue strictness, there is danger, in some 
churches, of falling into the other extreme described in that 
scripture, " If any man love the world, the love of the Father 
is not in him." In a letter from Savannah in 1869, Dr. 
Fuller thus alludes to this distinguished man : — 

"We were relatives, fellow-students at Harvard, and intimately 
united at the bar. When first elected a prelate, he over and over, in 
conversation with us and from the pulpit, scouted the figments of 
apostolical succession and of sacramental gifts and graces. But ' ce 
n'est que le premier pas qui coute;' and he soon became, with all his 
admirable attributes, as priestly, as canonical, and exclusive, as the 
highest Churchman could desire. 

" ' Your cousin the bishop I see every night in the Baptist church 
when you preach. But wait a little. It cannot last.' So said the 
venerable Dr. Preston, the Independent pastor ; and we had not long 
to wait before he gave up to a sect learning, refinement, eloquence, 
zeal, piety, which ought to have been used for the catholic interests 
of Jesus. We mourned over him then; we mourn over him now; for 
he was greatly endeared to us." 

Another honored name and household word in Savannah 
was that of the Rev. Henry O. Wyer, a man of devoted 
spirit and remarkable eloquence. In the communication 
quoted above, Dr. Fuller writes of him, — 

"We acquiesce in a great deal of what is said about the idiosyn- 
crasies of nations and states; but, after all, one touch of the love 
of Jesus makes all men kin. He to whom we refer was a native of 
Massachusetts; yet where in our own sunny clime was ever found a 
sunnier spirit ? Where, among our most impassioned orators, was 
ever heard a more glowing herald of the cross ? We enjoyed the 
closest intimacy with our brother. He was the pastor in Savannah ; 
we, in Beaufort. We were thus near each other; often visited each 



EVANGELISM. 125 

other ; and at times, in our churches, or ranging the country, it was 
our delight and refreshment to obey that Wisdom which sent the 
seventy forth ' two by two.' Blessed were those days and those 
nights." 

Savannah, — city of beautiful groves fragrant with the ^/ 
myrtle and orange! — thunderbolt, whose splendid oaks, 
draped with tendent moss, form a kind of druidical temple ! 
but more beautiful than the natural scenes were the trees 
of righteousness, the planting of the Lord, abounding in 
the peaceable fruits of righteousness ; sweeter than the 
sea-breeze in the orange and myrtle groves were the gales 
of ' ' refreshing from the presence of the Lord ' ' in that work 
of the Spirit. 

Next to Savannah, the seaport of Georgia, ranks in popu- 
lation and wealth the beautiful city of Augusta. About 
half way up the Savannah Eiver, at the head of navigation 
on the west bank of the river, with streets parallel and at 
right angles to the stream, and shaded by continuous rows 
of elms and s}~camores, it is one of the most attractive 
places in the State. The population is from fifteen thousand 
to twenty thousand ; and with several lines of railroad meet- 
ing here, and one or more important factories in the neigh- 
borhood, it is a business-centre of considerable importance. 

The minister whose labors were blessed to the establish- 
ment of the Baptist Church in this place was the elder Brantly. 
While teaching in the academy, he began preaching every 
Sunday. Soon the nucleus of a church was gathered, and 
the present building erected, as much through the contribu- 
tions of friends in other denominations as hy the Baptists 
themselves. At the time of which we speak, the pulpit of 
this dear church was filled by the son of the first pastor, the 
Rev. Dr. Brantly, now of Baltimore. The intimacy between 
Richard Fuller and the father was perpetuated between him 
and the son ; and with this co-worker in Augusta, as with 
.Wyer and Binnej* in Savannah, Richard Fuller was often 
associated in evangelical work. 



126 LIFE OF BICIIABD FULLER. 

About this time, Dr. Stiles, the able Presbyterian, — con- 
verted, like Dr. Fuller, from the law to the gospel, — was 
preaching with great power in the State. The remark was 
made in Augusta by a friend of the two, that, after the ex- 
citement of a meeting held by Stiles, Fuller was the only 
man who could not only re-awaken, but deepen, the interest. 
On the occasion of Dr. Fuller's visit in 1841 the church was 
thronged night after night to hear the Word from his lips. 
The only way to secure a good seat was to go early in the 
afternoon. For miles the people would throng from the 
country ; and, when no room could be found in the pews and 
aisles, they sat in the windows, anywhere, to catch the 
words that came fresh and burning, like live coals from off 
God's altar, from the lips of the preacher. At the invitation 
at the close of the service to kneel in praj'er, it was no un- 
usual sight to see the whole congregation bowed at the 
mercy-seat. 

Dr. Fuller, at this time, was in the prime of his intellectual 
and physical powers, while his spiritual life was daily gath- 
ering strength. His preaching at this time, in power of 
thought and effectiveness of delivery, was, perhaps, equal 
to any of his efforts before or since. His plan then was that 
which he recommended to the young men in Beaufort, — to use 
full and thoroughly-prepared notes, which were placed in the 
Bible before him. He dispensed with these notes afterwards. 
But these were secondary matters. It was the spirit, and 
not the letter, the faith and earnestness and fire and melt- 
ing pathos, which won the day, or ruled the night, as the 
multitudes trembled or wept under those appeals. 

Some opposition was, of course, developed, as will always 
be the case in any work of the kind. "A great door and ef- 
fectual is opened unto me, and there are many adversaries." 
One excited individual sent word to the preacher, that, if 
he attempted to visit or baptize any of his house, he would 
shoot him. " Tell Mm," calmly replied our preacher, " fire 



EVANGELISM. 127 

away." The lady was baptized, and no firing was done. 
1 ' The wrath of man shall praise Thee." The Earl of Morton 
remarked, as he stood over the remains of John Knox, 
" There lies he who never feared the face of man." Eichard 
Fuller was a man of this stamp. On a visit to Washington, 
D.C., he was once asked, "What if the President and his 
cabinet were to come to hear you to-night ? " — "I would 
only endeavor," he promptly replied, "to speak more 
plainly." 

But, if there was a degree of opposition, there was an open 
door and an abundant blessing. Among the trophies of 
these and other meetings were some of the best people in 
the town. Nor was the work limited to the Baptist Church. 
To this daj T , some of the most devoted members of the other 
churches in the place attribute their conversion to those ap- 
peals of the Beaufort pastor. As in Beaufort, so in Augus- 
ta, the river was the natural baptistery. One sweet sabbath 
morning, about sunrise, some fifty rejoicing souls went down 
into the Savannah, and were buried with Christ by baptism. 
And this was but one of many similar occasions. 

Dr. Turpin, a deacon of the church, — one of those faithful 
stewards of Jesus who love to give of their abundance, and 
who arrange their contributions without waiting for the ap- 
peals of agents, — his heart overflowing with gratitude at the 
results of the meeting, which had been blessed to his own 
house, pressed a handsome sum on the servant of Christ at 
the conclusion of the meeting. "No," said the minister, 
who was determined that no man should stop him of this 
boasting in those regions : ' ' give this to the poor, and let 
me have some book as a souvenir of our friendship." A 
handsome volume on the centre-table in the parlor in Beau- 
fort bore the honored names of these two servants of Jesus, 
— "Richard Fuller, from W. H. Turpin." 

A still more interesting souvenir of this meeting is the fol- 
lowing communication from the esteemed Dr. Rambaut of 
Brooklyn, N.Y. : — 



128 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

514 Clinton Street, Brooklyn, N.Y., 
Dec. 5, 1876. 

My dear Brother, — I first heard Dr. Fuller preach in the Bap- 
tist church, Augusta, Ga. I was at the time conducting the Beach- 
Island Academy, South Carolina (seven miles distant), and reading 
law under counsel of Hon. R. M. Charlton of Savannah, Ga. Hearing i 
of Dr. Fuller's eloquence, I went to hear him through curiosity. His 
first sermon was from Eccles. xi. 9. The exordium was very beauti- 
ful; the argument very plain, although fervent; showing, that how- 
ever satisfied a man might be with opinions on religion, home-educa- 
tion, church relations, habits, or interests, yet, if the soul had not 
come into life in Christ as the deliverer from judgment, he would 
find himself lost at the judgment. I have often thought since, " How 
was it that all I heard speak of that sermon seemed to think it a 
failure, while it reached my conscience ? " Recalling it at this date, I 
attribute its power in my case to its fitness to meet the needs of an 
Episcopalian, who is generally resting on those accidents of religion 
rather than on Christ. I am strengthened in this opinion from the 
fact that there were several of that persuasion who were interested at 
that time. The next sermon I heard from him was on the crucifix- 
ion of Christ. But, meanwhile, I had embraced Christ by faith. His 
sermon confirmed my assurance by leading me to realize that the 
cross is a fountain to which we may ever go for the refreshing of our 
souls. 

A few days after my conversion I was baptized by Dr. Brantly, 
now of Baltimore. On the following Wednesday I conducted the 
lecture during the pastor's absence, and thence proceeded to preach 
every Sunday. After a while, I was so often called upon to attend 
and preach at protracted meetings, that I was licensed in June, 1842. 

By the way, I never preached among the Episcopalians. My 
parents died in my childhood, and my relatives educated me with the 
design of advancing me in the church through the patronage of our 
family. I did not care to be a preacher then. From Dr. Fuller I 
learned Christ, and then to preach became my highest ambition. 
Your friend and brother, 

Thomas Rambaut. 

The folio wing letters, written to a lady and her husband 
who had joined the Baptist church in Augusta during this 
meeting, show the permanent interest, and still more the 
growing spiritual character, of the writer : — 



EVANGELISM. 129 

Beaufort, S.C., April 12, 1841. 

My deae Madam, — If I have not sooner complied with your 
kind request, it has been because I wished to wait till after your bap- 
tism. I need not tell you that I shall ever feel a deep interest in your 
husband and self and children. His course was that of a man. The 
apostle says, "Quit you like men." I beg my dear brother to realize 
that this will demand firmness, and to show that he can and will be 
on the Lord's side in the face of a thousand worlds. " Add to your 
faith virtue." The word " virtue " here means courage. He will find 
this courage daily necessary. But I have no fear of him. Eemem- 
ber, both of you, the admonition of Jesus: "In me ye shall have 
peace; in the world ye shall have tribulation." Be, then, happy by 
abiding in Jesus. I trust you have reared a family-altar, and that 
your husband prays with you and your children night and morning. 
The first time I tried this I could not say three words. I burst into 
tears, and only said, "Lord, bless me, and help my family." He 
may at first hesitate; but I beg him just to get down to think of 
Jesus and his wife and children, and he will soon find it easy and 
sweet to speak to the Lord, and implore his blessing and guidance for 
the future, and thank him for the past. The stand we take at the 
outset of our religious life is of the last importance. In religion, 
the only course which is easy and safe is a decided one. A middle 
flight seems, at first, safest, and most easily maintained ; but it is a 
mistake. The attractions of earth will insensibly draw us down. 
High flying is safe flying. The world does not reach us, and the 
influence of the upper world and invisible things supports and cheers 
and elevates the soul. 

You seemed to intimate that there was something peculiar in 
your case. I think you had better dismiss the thought. The apostle 
says, " Think not as though some strange thing happened unto you." 
We all know our own experiences, and not those of others. But in 
heaven we shall find that the people of God were all led by the same 
love and wisdom ; and though it was by a way they knew not, yet it 
was "a right way." 

I wish your piety to be cheerful, and it will be so if you only act 
it out at all times. I do not believe we would be annoyed and cast 
down by doubts if we made our piety a principle, and lived under its 
control. Your sex are oftener nervous than ours; and, when this is 
the case, Satan is very busy, and darkness will creep on the soul. And 
often there is required a strong exertion of good sense to say, "This 
is ill health : it is not a want of religion, but of exercise ; and I will 
go and walk it off. These feelings will disappear to-morrow." I have 



130 LIFE OF RICH ABB FULLER. 

known such cases where the persons were almost in despair; and 
I have told them to take exercise every day, and, above all, to find 
out some way of doing actively something for the Lord; and they 
have, after a while, been happy, and laughed at their previous gloom. 
A woman's piety, like her life, is domestic; and, while it is sheltered 
from those assaults which a man has to encounter in the world, it is 
on this very account apt to want vigor and sturdiness. 

Eealize that you are Christ's. Ask in all things, " What is my duty 
to him ? " Recollect that the time is short, and act as one who is going 
to heaven. Keep your eye upon Jesus. " Let us run with patience 
the race set before us, looking unto Jesus." There is a course to be 
maintained, and it is the one " set before us." Let us never think, 
that, under other circumstances, we would serve God better. The 
way to be safe and happy is to realize that Providence has assigned us 
our course, — our trials, our duties, and our difficulties, — and that 
these are exactly the process of discipline and education which we 
require, and which will best train us for heaven. But, if we would 
succeed, w r e must look ever to Jesus. Looking to him, and remem- 
bering all his love and all his tenderness and compassion, will infuse 
into our hearts peace and joy under every circumstance. All is 
summed up in one word, ''Abide in Jesus." 

My affectionate remembrances to your husband and children. 
Grace be with you. 

Your affectionate friend and brother, 

E. Fuller. 

The next letter is to the husband of the lady addressed in 
the last : — 

BBA.UPORT, Oct. 7, 1842. 

My dear M , — I write you from a chamber to which I have 

been confined for a week, suffering day and night extreme pain. Ex- 
posure and excessive preaching brought on an inflammatory fever. I 
am now enjoying the luxury of a blister. What blessings are pain 
and sickness to such creatures as we are ! Meditating on my life in 
this room, how short does it appear ! and how utterly worthless every 
hope but that fixed on the merits of Jesus ! Is it not strange that 
beings having such prospects as ours can for a moment care about 
such a world, and be fascinated by its lying vanities ? What attrac- 
tions can such unreal objects have for him who knows that his treas- 
ure is in heaven by the consciousness that his heart is there ? I have 
been trying to improve my sufferings by reading " The Lives of the 
Martyrs." What did they not endure! and how degenerate my piety, 



EVANGELISM. 131 

which cannot lift me above all sense of a little physical torture! Yet 
" My grace is sufficient for thee; " and better far to derive lessons of 
patience from our affliction than to be endowed with a faith which 
elevates the soul above suffering. Their torments were for the bene- 
fit of others, therefore they could exult over them; ours for our 
own sanctification, and this can only be secured by our being left to 
know their sharpness and bitterness. Nor do I question but the same 
grace which armed their souls would, under like trials, enable the 
feeblest of God's children to climb with holy joy the flaming mount 
of sacrifice. How are you getting on? Let me entreat you, as I have 
often done, to surmount your scruples and pleas, and take in the 
church the place which your talents, and station in society, demand. 
Rest assured, my brother, that, for you as for me, a middle course will 
never do. You know that my religion has in it nothing gloomy. But 
if you would be happy in life, and fortified against all those tempta- 
tions which come to all, if you would have the peace of God reigning 
in your bosom, there is but one line of conduct to be pursued. We 
must enter into that noble declaration, " None of us liveth to himself, 
and no man dieth to himself. For whether we live, we live unto 
the Lord; and whether we die, we die unto the Lord." How few 
of us daily live under the severe but sublime admonition of that 
truth ! As to most, what is religion but a cunning form of selfism ? 
But of you I expect far different things. I know you love Jesus, 
and feel the soft but powerful constraints of his love. Yield to these 
constraints, and let the earnest importunity of your heart and hand 
be, " Lord, what wilt thou have me to do ? " 

" We want joy," we say. But God gives joy only as " strength." 
If I am idle, why should he give me strength ? I am satisfied of one 
thing: the only happy course is one of unwearied industry for 
Christ Jesus. While thus employed, my days and nights are all 
serene, my temper cheerful, my hope without a cloud. I rejoice that 
the universe contains such a God. How rich is creation in such a 
treasure ! How happy he who has such a portion ! 

I long to see you all, and to rejoice " beholding your order, and the 
steadfastness of your faith in Christ." 

Your affectionate friend and brother, 

R. Fuller. 

Charleston, the chief city and commercial mart of the Pal- 
metto State, is distant from Augusta a hundred and thirty- 
six miles. The First Baptist Church of Charleston is one of t>* 
the oldest church-organizations in the country, founded about 



J 



132 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

the middle of the seventeenth century. The Episcopal Church 
was and still is the dominant religious sect ; the bells of St. 
Michael's sounding the keynote for generations. The preju- 
dices in the mother- country against dissenters were brought 
over to the colony, and, like some exotics, strengthened by 
the change. Still, under the ministry of Scriven and Hart, 
the wise Furman, and those honored names which are tender- 
ly and reverently remembered in the " City by the Sea," — 
Manly and BrantLy, — these prejudices were in a measure 
removed, and the Baptist denomination placed on a firm and 
respectable footing. With the two last-named ministers, as 
with Wyer and Binney in Savannah, the labors of Richard 
Fuller were frequent and abundant. 

In the spring of 1846 Dr. Fuller and Rev. Mr. Wyer vis- 
ited Charleston to hold a meeting with the two churches, — - 
the old First, and its daughter, the dear Wentworth-street. 
The First Church was then under the pastoral care of the 
excellent Crawford. Dr. Curtis, one of the best Bible exposi- 
tors in the land, had recently resigned the pastorate of the 
Second Church. The meetings were conducted by Dr. Fuller 
and Mr. Wyer, with the advice of Dr. Crawford. For more 
than a week there seemed to be no impression either in the 
churches or in the community. u For nearly a whole night,' ' 
said Dr. Fuller, speaking of this discouragement, " Wyer 
and I walked the market" (a long, low, covered shed in 
Market Street) " anxious and prayerful." But a night of 
wrestling with the angel secured for Jacob the blessing. 
Multitudes began to throng the services, the meetings being 
held alternately in the two churches. 

The order of exercises was, a meeting for inquirers at sun- 
rise, and the usual service at night. This was carried on, 
with little or no intermission, for over a month. The work 
of preaching was done mainly b}^ Dr. Fuller, besides his con- 
stant interviews and conversations with the people, — a work 
often more exhausting than preaching. But with unflagging 



EVANGELISM. 133 

energy he ceased not day and night to warn the people with 
tears, declaring unto them the whole counsel of God. 

It was not yet the fashion to have a Sankey as a musi- 
cal accompaniment to the preacher ; but, with one or two 
good leaders, the singing was, what it always ought to be in 
revivals and at all times, simple and congregational. The 
preaching was the same presentation of "the truth as it is 
in Jesus," which in Savannah, Augusta, and other places, 
had been the burden of his ministrations. It was what 
James W. Alexander (clarum et venerabile nomen) happily 
calls " logic on fire," — truth in earnest. The same effects 
followed as in other places. Before the appointed hour the 
house was thronged with eager multitudes. After the more 
strictly devotional exercises came the sermon ; the vast au- 
dience held by some strong argument (where the training of 
the law3 T er shows itself in the manner and method of the 
preacher) ; then moved with a ripple of pleasurable surprise 
at some pointed exposure of error ; then melted to tears, if 
not loud sobs, under some outburst of overflowing tender- 
ness. Wonderful enchanter, with the wand of truth ! good 
soldier of Jesus Christ, with " the sword of the Spirit, which 
is the word of God " ! After a short pause, and a verse or 
two of the lrynin, 

" Blow ye the trumpet, blow," 

Mr. Wyer, his heart all aglow with the theme, would come 
down to the stand in front of the pulpit, and, in one of those 
fervent, effective addresses for which he was famous, carry 
home the great truths of the discourse. Loving and beloved 
W}'er, with the gentleness of a woman, and the strength and 
beauty of a captain among the hosts of Israel ! 

As the result of this meeting, the two churches were 
brought closer together, their memberships revived, and be- 
tween one hundred and two hundred souls added to their roll. 
Many of these have since fallen asleep ; many, alas ! drifted 



v/ 



134 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

back again to the world. No revival on this side of heaven 
is a work of unmixed good. Even Pentecost must have had 
its drawbacks. But, to this da} T , some of the most useful men 
in our denomination are the fruits of that meeting that have 
remained. Hon. B. C. Pressley, a prominent lawyer of 
Charleston, writes of this meeting, " My first knowledge of 
Dr. Fuller was in Charleston in 1846 ; from which time I 
date the beginning of a very happy life." 

The Rev. Dr. Boyce, President of the Southern Baptist 
Convention, Rev. Dr. Tupper, successor of the beloved Tay- 
lor in the foreign-mission office in Richmond, and many 
more, useful in the ministry and other departments of the 
church, are the living witnesses of the grace and power of 
that meeting. As an echo of that meeting, we quote from a 
letter of Dr. Tupper : — 

Richmond, January, 1877. 

You know how he embedded himself in my mind and heart dur- 
ing that grand revival of 1846, when so many of us who became 
preachers were baptized by him. I shall never forget his startling 
and effective words to me then, when I was on the verge of despair : 
"If you go to hell, I shall go with you, and we will preach Jesus 
there, and they will turn us out; and where then ?" This idea of 
preaching Jesus was burned into the very core of his existence, and 
permeated his whole being as light and heat pervade the surround- 
ings of fire. I certainly heard the doctor preach fifty times, and I 
think I never heard a sermon from him which was not directly on 
the great salvation by Jesus Christ. 

Just before I went to Madison University, he preached before 
the Society for Inquiry. The text was, "The poor have the gospel 
preached unto them." It was in the day of abolition excitement, 
and there was no little objection manifested in the village to the 
appointment of the South-Carolina preacher. I think a letter re- 
questing him not to come was written to him ; to which he replied, 
that they needed the gospel. After the sermon, as I was informed 
by Dr. Maginnis, the crowd actually desired to carry him home to 
Dr. Maginnis' s house, I believe, on their shoulders. Since then the 
name of Dr. Fuller has been a household word in Hamilton and 
Madison University. I never saw his like, and I never expect to see 
it in this world. Affectionately, 

H. A. Tupper. 



EVANGELISM. 135 

Dr. Crawford, who was then pastor of the First Church in 
Charleston, and a beloved associate in this work, in a sketch 
in " The Baptist," Memphis, 1867, thus writes : — 

"When a boy of sixteen, and a sophomore in college, I heard 
Stephen Olin preach. The impression made upon me was such as I 
have never forgotten, and shall never forget. I felt as I imagined 
Mr. Jefferson felt, when, a law-student, he heard Patrick Henry- 
speak: 'He seemed to me to speak as Homer wrote.' When Olin 
rose in the pulpit, his huge, ungainly, but feeble form made you think 
of a sick blacksmith. He began to speak ; but his words were hesi- 
tating, his gestures few and awkward, and his whole manner sheep- 
ish. But presently the divine afflatus kindled his soul. Then his 
words poured forth, now as a flowing stream, now as a bounding 
torrent ; his leaden eye flashed with fire, or melted in tenderness ; his 
gestures became so grand, that one never thought of gracefulness ; his 
vast frame lost all trace of awkwardness and debility, and he stood 
and moved with the strength of a giant. It was Paul and Barnabas 
combined, the majesty of Jupiter with the eloquence of Mercurius. 
While thus he preached, the hearer not unfrequently felt as if his 
soul (to use his own plain but expressive words) were stark naked in 
the presence of his Maker. Such is Stephen Olin as he appears in 
my mind's vision after the lapse of forty years. Strange to human 
thought that G-od should so soon silence forever so great a preacher ! 

" Nineteen years after I last heard Olin I found myself in a situa- 
tion where I saw much of Dr. Fuller, and heard him preach often 
in circumstances well calculated to call into full exercise his great 
powers. In these intervening years I had heard many of the most 
distinguished speakers of the country; but it was only when I heard 
Puller that my memory of Olin was recalled. Not that the men 
were alike ; but the effect was the same. The men were very unlike. 
Fuller, indeed, was tall ; but at that time his figure had not assumed 
those rotund proportions which it now displays. Unlike Olin, his 
whole mien was imposing. When he rose to address a congregation, 
his very attitude was that of a man conscious at once that he had a 
most important message to deliver, and that he had the capacity to 
deliver it worthily. This, so far from repelling or displeasing the 
hearer, really conciliated him. You felt, ' That man has something 
to say, and I will hear it.' Such is the difference between a bold 
impudence and a commanding presence. His voice was singularly 
sweet and of great compass, and managed with such exquisite skill, that 
his softest whispers were distinctly heard in the remotest parts of a 



136 LIFE OF BICHABB FULLEB. 

crowded congregation; -while his loudest tones did not jar upon the 
ears of those nearest the speaker. His gestures were always graceful. 
No vehemence of passion ever produced violence of action, and the 
strength really became stronger by being held in control. He sub- 
dued others, because, in the loftiest flights of his imagination and the 
deepest feelings of his heart, he was master of himself. 

" He was then in the prime of his mental and physical existence; 
for, though time has not impaired his mind, it has not strengthened 
its powers, though it has enriched its acquirements. I regretted then, 
and I regret now, that I have to compare my boyish impressions of 
Olin with those which Fuller made upon a mature man. It may be 
that the mind of Olin had more genius; though Fuller's is equal to 
any subject which logic can master: add to this the advantages of 
his person by nature and cultivation, and a heart unsurpassed for 
tender feeling, generous impulse, and a noble sympathy for all that is 
good and great, suffering and weak, in human nature. 

" The circumstances in which I heard Dr. Fuller preach were cal- 
culated, as before said, to call into full exercise all his great powers. 
I heard him preach a number of the sermons which had already given 
him a national reputation. One was his sermon on the prodigal son : 
with which, however, I was less pleased than with many others ; for 
though the whole congregation was melted to tears, yet it appeared to 
me that it was rather human sympathy than a divine influence that 
stirred the heart. 

" One passage in another sermon I remember, superior to any thing 
I ever witnessed, and equal to any thing I ever read in the history of 
oratory. A sermon had been announced in the papers, on the issue, I 
think, between Christians and unbelievers. The church was crowded 
to its utmost capacity. The text was announced : ' If they believe 
not Moses and the prophets, neither will they be persuaded though 
one rose from the dead.' The preacher first laid down the proposi- 
tion, that to a Jew in Jerusalem, at the time of Christ and the apos- 
tles, there was stronger evidence for believing than could be furnished 
by one rising from the dead. He confirmed this proposition by a 
close, earnest course of reasoning, which compelled the undivided 
attention of the congregation. There was not the slightest effort to 
arouse the passions. He then laid down a second proposition, that, 
to the persons then present, there was stronger evidence for believing 
than was possessed by the Jew in the times of Christ. This was 
established by a similar course of reasoning. The preacher now 
pressed home upon his hearers the obligation to believe, and their 
feelings began to move ; when suddenly he exclaimed, ' But you still 



EVANGELISM. 137 

demand the testimony of the dead? Have, then, your wish! I vacate 
the pulpit ! ' And, suiting the action to the word, he stepped back to 
the remotest comer, as if to give place to a new speaker. He con- 
tinued, ' Come forth, thou man from the pit ; ' and again he stooped 
forward, and stretched forth his arm, slowly raising it as if to help the 
new-comer to his place. In the mean time, with words of fire, he 
described the blazing Dives, breathing flames, and uttering at cnce 
lamentations of despair, and exhortations to flee from the wrath of 
hell. ^Never have I beheld such a scene as the congregation then 
presented. Every one's hair stood on end, and terror petrified every 
countenance. That no one shrieked was because every one's voice 
was lost; that no one fled was because everyone's limbs were par- 
alyzed. Said more than one gentleman to me the next day, ' I would 
have run out of the house if I could have moved.' How the speaker 
closed the passage I cannot tell; but when, at the conclusion, he 
proposed prayer, every form in the house bowed for relief, if not in 
worship. 

" If this was acting, never was there more consummate acting. But 
it was not acting, but the true inspiration of the orator; or, better still, 
the divine inspiration of the preacher. Last year, when I met Dr. 
Fuller at Eussellville, and afterwards as we journeyed together to 
Louisville, I referred to this incident ; but he had forgotten it. The 
words, of course, could never be recalled, and, even if strictly re- 
ported, could never bring back the mutual sympathetic enthusiasm 
of the speaker and his hearers. 

"About the same time an incident occurred illustrating the power 
of the preacher. Dr. Thornwell (whom the Presbyterians called 
their 'Ecclesiastical Calhoun') and Dr. Fuller were to preach the 
same night. Rev. C. W. Howard, pastor of the Huguenot Church in 
Charleston, had never heard the former. Eev. John B. Pinney, 
former missionary to Liberia, and once governor of the colony, had 
never heard the latter. An arrangement was made, that, after hear- 
ing the preachers, they should meet, and compare notes. On meeting, 
Howard gave us an elaborate criticism, full of interest, in which 
he most admirably delineated Dr. Thornwell' s characteristics as a 
preacher. When he finished, we turned to Pinney for a similar 
description of Fuller. In response to our demand, he said, ' I have 
nothing to say. I went prepared to criticise, and determined to keep 
my mind free that I might do it ; but the man had not been preach- 
ing five minutes before I was completely in his power, and he did 
with me whatever he pleased. How he did it I don't know: I only 
know the fact.' My impression is, that the sermon that night was on 
Jesus Christ and him crucified." 



138 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

It was the one theme of his ministry, the centre and cir- 
cumference of every circle of thought and emotion and public 
ministration. It was this sound of the gospel-trumpet that 
stirred and shook the " City by the Sea." Beautiful city ! — • 
the sea which the preacher loved is still washing thy shores ; 
the breezes that cooled his brow are still playing over the 
Battery. 

" Break, break, break, 

At the foot of thy crags, O Sea ! 
But the tender grace of a day that is dead 
Will never come back to me." 



CONTBOVEBSY. — CATHOLIC. 139 



CHAPTER XVII. 

CONTROVERSY. CATHOLIC. 

" Beware 
Of entrance to a quarrel ; but, being in, 
Bear it, that the opposer may beware of thee." 

THAT there are good and true Christians in the Catholic 
as in the Protestant communion, none, perhaps, except 
Cromwell's Ironsides, might question. Luther himself was 
indebted, under God, for much of his evangelical knowl- 
edge, to the piety and counsels of the Augustine monk 
Staupitz. 

But some men are good and useful, not by virtue of their 
systems, but in spite of them. Dr. Arnold of Rugby stud- 
ied Romanism at Rome, and defines the system as virtually 
Judaism under a Christian name. In the failure of the effort 
made at a very early age to ingraft circumcision and the doc- 
trine of meats upon the gospel, the attempt was made, which 
proved successful, to introduce the same or similar errors 
under a Christian name. For circumcision we have baptismal 
regeneration ; and instead of purifying or defiling meats, the 
doctrine of transubstantiation. This confusion of a spiritual 
religion with bodily acts and material elements, administered 
b} T a priesthood which virtually displaces the one mediator- 
ship of Christ, he terms the " essence of Popery " (Life by 
Stanley) . Infant-baptism, we may add, with or without the 
theoiy of regeneration, is a kindred error in the same line of 
departure from the gospel. 



140 LIFE OF BICHABD FULLER. 

From his own observation in Catholic countries, and at 
Home itself, Richard Fuller, like Thomas Arnold, was better 
able to discuss this question ; and the occasion soon offered 
itself. 

At a meeting about this time (1839) of the Prince William 
Temperance Societ}^, resolutions were passed, and a memo- 
rial prepared by Rev. Mr. Fuller and Albert Rhett, Esq,, 
praying the South- Carolina legislature to take action as to 
the matter of granting licenses. In this memorial, which 
was printed, allusion was made, by way of illustration, to 
the tax-book of the Roman chancery. This drew a note, 
published in " The Charleston Courier," from John England, 
then Catholic bishop of Charleston, a prelate of popular 
manners and distinguished ability. This note of the bishop 
was addressed to Albert Rhett, Esq. , one of the gifted family 
of that name ; but, as Mr. Fuller was the author of the ad- 
dress, he at once replied, and a war of giants commenced. 

As this controversy may not be so familiar to some read- 
ers of these pages, we will quote one of Dr. Fuller's letters. 
It is the next to the last of his in the series. It may be 
taken as a fair specimen of his talent and st} T le as a con- 
troversialist ; while, from its position, it shows the drift and 
substance of the discussion. 

[From "The Courier" of Sept. 14, 1839.] 

To the Right Rev. Bishop England. 

Reverend Sir, — I have read your last five letters with all the atten- 
tion in my power. I, with deference, conceive that the proofs and 
arguments in my communications remain not only unscathed, but 
quite untouched as to any material point, and that I could easily 
show this. 

The controversy has, however, been already protracted to such a 
weary length, that it would be unreasonable, if not impossible, to 
trespass further on the patience of our readers. I am sure the 
greatest favor I can confer upon the public is to terminate the dis- 
cussion ; and I submit the case, therefore, cheerfully to the verdict of 



CONTROVERSY. — CATHOLIC. 141 

all who seek only truth, making but the following observations, which 
they will see indispensable: — 

1. You must feel that expurgated copies of tax-books and other 
documents in your possession are worth less than nothing in the 
case before us. 

2. When Abbe Richard admits the tax-book, it is the work 
" Jurieu produced," — viz., the tariff of sin, — which, he says, "the 
Church'''' 1 suppressed, and of which " the guilt belongs only to the 
court of Rome." Your attempt to identify this with the cut-and- 
dry copy in your possession, and to confound a tax-book for Papal 
revenue with a fee-bill of officers, is too bad. The picture you give, 
however, of John XXII. "citing Scripture for his purpose," is ad- 
mirable. How the blood-sucker must have chuckled as he concocted 
his infernal scheme for replenishing his needy coffers, and "gave as 
a cause (your own words) that verse of the Psalmist, ' Blessed is he 
who understandeth concerning the needy and the poor'!" Well 
done, Pope John XXII. ! 

3. Your " Judices Prohibitorum " and " Xisi Corriganturs " clearly 
prove nothing, but that the press was and is abused shamefully in 
order to conceal truth, and keep the people in ignorance and super- 
stition. As you are so anxious for an exhibition, I beg you will only 
go as far back as 1826, and let the community see " The Index " then 
published, and the books it forbids, and the conditions on which 
alone even the Bible is to be allowed. 

4. In respect to the chancery, you say you " have other dodging- 
places," and I have not got you there. I think I have, and I am 
satisfied of it even by your last letters. The preparing a tax-book 
would be only a "ministerial act," and not "judicial." The popes 
themselves were the authorities which issued indulgences. They 
palmed them upon the people as absolutions and dispensations from 
censures and sins, and the "ministerial" business of preparing the 
tariff would belong to the chancery. As to the refinements of the 
Church and Bellarmine I care nothing. The distinction may be very 
clear in your articles of faith between absolutions and dispensations 
and indulgences ; but the word of God condemns them all without 
any distinction: and what would popes like John and Sixtus and 
Leo care about the subtleties and maxims of Dr. Tom Aquinas ? 
They had but one orthodox maxim : — 

1 If I repeat often and in Italics these words, you will forgive me. I am an 
unworthy member of a poor and humble body of Dissenters, and I cannot quite 
forget that witty but wicked sarcasm of South's, — " The Papists have a church, but 
no religion: the Dissenters a religion, but no church." You will, sir, sympathize 
with me, no doubt, and participate in my indignation. 



142 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

" O cives, cives, quaerenda pecunia primum est, 

Virtus post nummos." 
" Get moneys, moneys; fleece our flock of these; 

And then — old Tom of Aquin, if you please." 

As, however, you might go on dodging forever in these courts, let a 
single plain but decisive question suffice. Is it even possible that 
you can be correct, and all the Protestant princes and the multiplied 
European authorities cited — Reformed and Romanist — be in error ? 
Sir, Lingard has betrayed you into adopting for argument what he 
only meant as a spiteful retort upon Mesurier, Faber, and the other 
archers who galled and shot him without mercy. 

5. You acknowledge one error as to Parrhasius, and commit others. 
That "Protestant translation" of Bayle which you use must labor 
sadly under the " peculiar disease ; " and, were Whittaker living, it 
could hardly escape him. Leave it, sir, and go to the honest original 
"kindly offered" you. The case was incest from first to last. The 
popes did sell a dispensation: "V argent a quoi la dispense etait 
taxee." That it was not an indulgence, but a dispensation from sin, 
makes my argument stronger, since the datary had to do with a 
dispensation from incest; and I maintain, that, though separate now, 
the datary and chancery were then the same court. In a note to 
Mosheim (vol. iii. p. 93) the learned Schlegel gives an account of the 
courts, and says, " The chancery is called dataria." This was as late 
as 1770. Parrhasius died two centuries before, in 1533. Even now, 
you admit, that, while the datary inquires into cases of incest, the 
chancery "prepares the papers, and gives the documents," — viz., the 
datary is judicial, the chancery ministerial; and preparing the tax- 
book would be ministerial. But, sir, without further jugglery, why 
not put the thing in its true light at once ? Indulgences, absolu- 
tions, &c, were granted by no tribunals at all, but by the Pope him- 
self. As to these, the courts of Rome deserve not the name of 
tribunals. They were and are mere creatures of the pontiff; and, to 
whatever department he might choose to refer certain matters for 
investigation or report, the chancery, an office derived from the 
Cissars (see Blackstone's Commentaries) was and would be the minis- 
terial, bureau to issue his tariff of taxes. I am willing, however, to 
rest this on the simple, plain question put above. 

6. You are " astonished at my inaccuracy as to the date of the pro- 
test of the princes." I am astonished at yours. The Council of 
Trent was called as early as 1542. Even before 154G the princes pre- 
sented their memorial. In January, 1546, Robertson says (p. 147), 
"They published a long manifesto, containing a renewal of their 



CONTB VEBSY. — CA THOLIC. 143 

protest against its" (the Council of Trent's) "meeting together, with 
the reasons which induced them to decline its jurisdiction." The 
meeting in 15G2 was only a re-assemhling of the same council ; and 
the address of the princes, a representation of their protest. Even 
this, however, was two years before Pinet's work. Tour confession, 
that "as to Pinet's being the original fabricator, you are not so posi- 
tive," (indeed!) and your suggestion, that perhaps the whole body 
of princes were the forgers in a document publicly presented to a 
Catholic council! — these are a specimen of the parts of your letters 
I had noted, as they came out, for comment, but as to which, in 
sparing the public, I spare you. Would it not be safer and better to 
admit the tax-book among "the enormous and criminal abuses you 
grant did exist " than to hazard this charge ? But so it is in these 
things: one step ever leads to worse, — " Ce n'est que le premier pas 
qui coute." 

7. I said that " the enforcement of the tariff would have been a 
shelter in the days of Luther and Calvin." Here again, too, how 
exact the Prince William illustration ! The license laws exist now ; 
but do they remedy the evil ? Are they, or will they ever be, 
enforced, while they recognize the principle that the manufacture 
of drunkards is an honest business, and, sir, a proper subject for 
taxation ? 

8. As to the Lateran Council I will give the words. The editors 
of "The Courier" threaten to put us on the advertising columns. 
I am not surprised at it. I return them my sincere acknowledgments 
for their courtesy, extended thus far to one who is a stranger, and 
whose name is not even on the list of their subscribers (an omission 
which I beg they will supply). But, sir, this threat must sound 
ominously in your ears; and, as I would fain save you from insol- 
vency, 1 — for printing is rather harder and dearer work than pardon- 
ing sins, and the tax-bill of "The Courier" might not be quite so 
' ' extremely moderate ' ' as that of the Pope appeared to honest Lin- 
gard, — I will state to our readers that I give the canon as quoted by 
Faber. His book, however, will satisfy any who consult it that he 
drank not from troubled streams, but ascended to fountain-heads; 
and G. S. Faber' s reputation defies any assault: "Non enim dicenda 
sunt juramenta, sed potius perjuria, quas contra utilitatem ecclesias- 
ticam et sanctorum patrum venient instituta" (Concil. Lateran. 
tcrt. Can. xvi., Labb. Concil. Sacrosanct., vol. x. p. 1517). "For 
they" (oaths) "are not to be esteemed oaths, but rather perjury 

1 Dr. Fuller alludes, not to the bishop's exchequer, but to the number and length 
of his letters. 



144 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

which are against ecclesiastical utility and the decision of the holy 
fathers " (see Faber's Difficulties, p. 48). I find that Mr. Maclain, 
in his " Mosheim," is at a loss how can this he called the third Late- 
ral! Council, when there had been eight previously. He confounds 
provincial with general councils. This was only the third general 
Lateran Council, and is acknowledged as the eleventh of those 
called oecumenical, or universal. 

9. The prohibition of the tariff in 1570, and pretence of corruption, 
amounts, as Bayle well observes, only to this, "that the Pope wished 
to conceal a document with which at that time the reformers were 
beginning to goad the Church." The Jesuits were then the very 
soul of Inquisitions and Romanism. Pascal was, indeed, " not of 
your church," if by "your church" you mean "the monastic order 
of the Jesuits." But he was a professor of the Roman-Catholic re- 
ligion; and, after my mention of his inimitable Letters, I should have 
supposed you would hardly, however pressed, have brought forward 
the Jesuit Bellarmine. How largely, too, do you calculate on the 
ignorance of the community, when you quote a furious controversial 
tract of Lingard, that virulent Roman-Catholic priest, whose preju- 
dices make even his "History of England " unworthy of credit, full of 
"dexterity of interpolation," "wonderful talent for quoting as much as 
suits his purpose, and omitting whatever makes against him," " hardi- 
hood of assertion" " borrowing from his fancy what is necessary to the 
support of his system," &c. ! (Edinburgh Review, No. 83, 87.) It seems 
to be only against pretended Protestant forgeries that your zeal, like 
veracious Whittaker's, is ungovernable. Lingard is, I believe, now 
living ; and you might as well have given a passage out of one of your 
former letters. As you cite these works, however (although the 
extracts are nothing at all to the purpose), permit me to select one or 
two authorities out of others before me which bear directly on the 
" precise question," and which even you will not venture to combat. 
Their words of themselves ought to settle this dispute. 

10. I adduced before the "aSTouveau Dictionnaire Historique " 
(Caen, 1786), whose editors, though violent Catholics, mention Pinet's 
notes and the tariff without the least pretence of forgery. These same 
editors speak in the highest terms of De Thou (also a Roman Catholic) ; 
and what does he testify ? " Leo X. gathered huge sums of money by 
sending his breves abroad, everywhere promising expiation of cdl sins, 
and life everlasting, upon a certain price, which any should give, 
according to the heinousness of his offence" (Thttanus: Hist. Sui 
Temp, ad Ann. 1515). 

Planck, than whom there is no better authority in Europe, and 



CONTROVERSY. — CATHOLIC. 145 

whose work the " Conversations Lexicon" pronounces distinguished 
"by profound research and by thorough and free examination," thus 
writes : "In Rome itself the trade in indulgences was prosecuted even 
in small and individual things, and carried on with a regularity which 
would have done honor to the most reputable business in the world. 
There was drawn up a formal statute, regulating the prices of all 
kinds' of sins, even of those the very existence and names of which 
had perhaps been conceived of only in the imagination of some idle 
casuist ; in which statute the price of each pardon was fixed on the 
most singular principles of estimation. This almost incredible monu- 
ment of the most audacious oppression and blindest superstition is 
still extant." — See Taxa Sacroe Penitentiaries, by Hortleder, on 
the Causes of the German War, bk. i., chap. 47, p. 564 (Planck: Prot. 
Theol). 

I remarked in my last letter on your many random assertions. 
There is one I overlooked. It is this: "Neither Mosheim nor any 
other respectable historian of the period alludes to such a documenV 
Now, here (as in your affirmations about Luther, — " stricken out of 
Protestant books," " no gentleman," &c.) a plain man would take it 
for granted that you could hardly be speaking at a venture ; and at 
first I really did not think to examine. Having grown a little wiser, 
however, I have turned to Mosheim, and, lo! his words at p. 430, 
vol. ii. : " The popes not only sold indulgences to the people more fre- 
quently than formerly, to the great indignation of kings and princes, 
but they required enormous prices to be paid for their letters or bulls 
of every kind. In this thing John XXII. showed himself peculiarly 
adroit and shrewd; for though he did not first invent the 'Regulations 
and Fees of the Apostolic Chancery,'' yet the Romish writers admit 
that he enlarged and reduced them to a more convenient form." 

I have already referred to the note of his celebrated commentator 
Schlegel, who was a contemporary, giving a full account of the book 
of sin. Here is another decisive note by Schlegel: " There were rich 
merchants of Geneva, Milan, Venice, and Augsburg, who purchased 
the indulgences for a particular province, and paid to the Papal chan- 
cery handsome sums for them " (vol. iii. p. 18). These wholesale im- 
portations, he says, they retailed at great profit. 

As I am unwilling to multiply quotations unnecessarily, I give but 
one more. The " Biographie Universelle " (the best biographical 
dictionary in the world) says, speaking of the tariff of sin (art. 
" Pinet "), " La Taxe Chancellerie fut imprimee pour la premiere fois 
a Rome en 1474, par Pordre du Pape Sixtus IV." John XXII. then 
enlarged and digested the tariff of iniquity in 1320, and Sixtus IV. 



146 LIFE OF BICHABD FULLER. 

first ordered it printed iu 1474. This is just in keeping witljjphe 
character of his Holiness Sixtus IV., who established brothels -in 
Rome in order to put a tax upon them. His other acts, and his 
consummate infamy, are they not written in the Book of Agrippa 
" De Yanit. Scient.," and in every authentic history ? 

Now, sir, with these remarks, I acquiesce cheerfully in the decision 
of the public. 

Others crowd upon me ; but I sacrifice them, though reluctantly : 
and, while " I do not ask a concession of victory, — about that I care 
nothing, — I do ask a concession of truth. Let any man examine the 
proofs advanced, which are the best possible from the nature of the 
case. Let him then look at the confessions of eminent Catholics. If 
further corroboration be needed, let him inquire into the character of 
the popes who are accused, and consider the notorious traffic in indul- 
gences, which involves necessarily a fixed rate of prices ; and if, after 
all this, he doubts the existence of the tax-book of sin, I humbly sub- 
mit that his scepticism must be ascribed, not to any defect of testi- 
mony, but to some other cause. 

I know nothing about the "mutual friend" in Charleston who 
offered you the use of a copy of Bayle in the original (an offer which 
I wish you had accepted), nor of any other " friend who had access 
to it; " but I cannot conclude without expressing my sincere thanks 
to a gentleman and distinguished scholar, whose name you have 
mentioned, and whose acquaintance I enjoyed in former days, and 
amid scenes and pursuits oh how different from those in which my 
soul rejoices now! I allude to the Hon. H. S. Legare, who, while in 
Europe, purchased for the Beaufort College not only Bayle, but by 
far the most choice collection of modern and ancient classics I have 
seen for a long time. 

Allow me also, reverend sir, now that this controversy is over, 
to repeat to you and the members of your community my regret that 
I have been forced into it ; and that, in order to defend the Prince 
William committee and show the striking accuracy of their com- 
parison, I have been compelled to disinter and expose the enormities 
which I had hitherto been willing to leave buried in oblivion, and for 
doing which I can only say, as I remarked in my first letter, depre- 
cating this discussion, that " upon yourself must rest the blame." 

I despatch the above before your promised explanations and con- 
fessions have reached me. After the premonitory of " The Courier," 
I am unwilling to expose you to temptation by entering on a subject, 
which, by the by, you carefully evaded while the press was open, and 
the public patience not exhausted. Reverend sir, J anticipate fully 



CONTROVERSY. — CATHOLIC. 147 

your course of argument as to absolutions, indulgences, &c. ; but all 
ingenuity here is expended in vain. The word of God levels against 
the whole system its distinct and unequivocal denunciations ; and it 
is notorious, that the popes care no more for your theories than I 
do, when they want money. That there were men who lifted an un- 
availing cry against the existing abuses I well know ; although poor 
Jerome and Huss teach us what was their reward. But if your con- 
fessions shall merit the title ; if they prove not a mere confirmation 
of Massillon's remark, that "the confessions of most persons are 
only a studious arrangement of words, to soften and embellish," &c, 
" 1' arrangement etudie des expressions qui adoucissent Fhorreur," 
&c. ; if, in short, you acknowledge one thousandth part of what all 
history attests, — then you must admit abominations so ineffably and 
infinitesimally enormous, that our judges will be amazed at your 
indignation about the tax-book ; and, while they look in horror at the 
character of your clients, — priests, abbots, bishops, cardinals, popes, 
councils, and the whole Church, century after century, — they will 
unanimously turn to me, and exclaim, in the language of an old 
acquaintance of yours at school, — 

" Solventur risu tabulae, — tu missus abibis." 

Hoping, then, we may now " part in mutual respect and amity," I 
have the honor to be, reverend sir, 

Your most obedient, humble servant, 

Eichakd Fuller. 

The allusion to the decree of the Lateran Council as to 
the nature and value of oaths, as quoted in Faber's " Diffi- 
culties of Romanism," led to a discussion of the subject. It 
is interesting, not only as showing the different conscien- 
tious views of two superior minds on a question of casuistry, 
bat as showing still more the force of education and training 
in shaping those views. This whole question of oaths, in 
connection with secret intentions and mental reservations, 
was never, perhaps, more ably treated than by Pascal in his 
celebrated "Provincial Letters" against the Jesuits. It 
was the famous Jesuit doctrine of expedienc} T pushed to its 
frightful extremes, the perversion of lo}-alty to Christ and 
his Church into a criminal depreciation of every other rela- 



148 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

tion, — the doctrine, condemned in terms of such severe 
reprobation in the Scripture, of doing evil that good may 
come. It was this that naturally made the Jesuits objects of 
suspicion, and occasionally of severe repressive measures, in 
Europe. 

We do not mean to say that Bishop England sympathized 
with this order, either in political or moral views. He was, 
no doubt, sincerely attached to American institutions, and, 
in all respects, a high-minded and honorable man. But his 
position on this question shows in a very striking way what 
the force of circumstances and association will do with men 
and minds of the highest order. 

The following extract is from the last letter of Dr. Fuller 
in " The Charleston Courier," dated Sept. 23, 1839 : — 

" You ask me this general question: — 

" ' Would an oath taken by a citizen of our State against the public 
welfare be considered obligatory ? Would the court which should 
decide that the citizen who took it, and continued to adhere to it, 
was not bound by that oath, upon the ground that it was not an oath, 
but perjury, be justly accused of teaching that perjury was lawful ? ' 
Here is a general question put ; and I have read it again and again, 
and submitted it to two gentlemen of the bar, as I could scarcely be- 
lieve my own eyes. What ! if South Carolina and Georgia were en- 
gaged in a suit before the United-States court, and I were a witness 
sworn to speak the wbole truth, and my testimony would decide the 
cause against the State, do you ask whether I would be bound to re- 
veal the truth ? Sir, you tell me what is ' perjury among Catho- 
lics : ' but I tell you, that if, in such a case, a witness should wilfully 
suppress any thing, Protestants would punish and brand him as a per- 
jurer; and a Protestant judge and jury would regard his knavery as 
only surpassed by his folly, were he to plead ' that an oath taken by 
a citizen of our State against its public welfare is not obligatory.' " 

This is enough to show the nature and drift of this contro- 
versy. It soon turned, as matters of the kind generally do, 
on the character and value of the witnesses. The two dis- 
putants treated each other with the utmost courtes} T ; but it 
was a different thing when they began with the witnesses. 



CONTB VERS T. — CA THOLIC. 149 

Besides their own libraries, they had access to the large 
and valuable Charleston Library and the smaller but excel- 
lent one in Beaufort for which Legare had made such excel- 
lent selections in Europe. With these resources at hand, 
and their own ability, scholarship, and skill to make them 
available, it was Greek meeting Greek in the intellectual 
arena. 

The reasoning of the bishop is strong, his style clear, and 
his temper and bearing uniformly courteous and gentlemanly. 
By close logic and technical precision he aims to disprove 
the original assertion ; and all his great ability and learn- 
ing are brought into requisition to set aside the credibility of 
the witnesses, the accuracy and authority of the alleged tax- 
book, and the jurisdiction of the particular Roman court as 
to the matters in hand. 

But even admitting that alterations maj T have been made 
in the original tax-book, that the chanceiy court was not 
strictly relevant to every particular offence, and that the 
character of the witnesses was not in every case unexcep- 
tionable, the question will at last be decided and the verdict 
rendered on the broader ground of the acknowledged abuses 
in the Catholic Church in the middle ages, whether as shown 
by some scandalous tax-book, or by Tetzel's sale of indul- 
gences, or by the general testimony of history. 

In this particular issue, witnesses like Mosheim, D'Au- 
bigne, Saurin, and Robertson, cannot be easily set aside. 
De Thou, Pascal, and others, are Catholics ; while, with 
authorities like Bayle's famous Dictionary and the "Ameri- 
cana Encyclopaedia," the very objection that ma} T be urged 
as to the religion or irreligion of the authors may give 
greater weight to their testimon} T in a question like this, as 
securing, possibly, greater impartiality. The plea that these 
taxes were police-regulations, and necessaiy features of gov- 
ernment, only furnishes a conclusive argument against all 
Church and State establishments, which, by this unholy 



150 LIFE OF BICHARD FULLER. 

fusion of things which Christ decreed should be forever 
kept apart, — his kingdom and the kingdom of the world, — 
leads inevitably to the corruption and degradation both of 
religion and the State. 

It has been said that the spread of the gospel in the first 
three centuries, in the face of Paganism, can only be ac- 
counted for on the supposition of the fact of the resurrection 
of Jesus Christ. But, if his resurrection was the cause, the 
moral abyss of infamy which Paganism had opened was the oc- 
casion. With equal emphasis it may be asserted that the 
spread of the Reformation in the sixteenth centur} r can only 
be explained as an historical phenomenon on the supposition 
of some actual gigantic evil in Christendom, from which the 
movement under Luther was the natural and necessary re- 
action. 

These letters were not only read in the communities where 
their authors resided, but were reported in Europe, and read 
with interest at Rome itself. 

A part of the summer of 1839 Dr. Fuller spent at Bay 
Point, the summer-retreat of the Beaufort people, on the 
coast where Broad River empties into the sea. He was in 
the midst of this controversy. On a fishing-excursion one 
day, the doctor, who was as good with the line as he was 
with the gun or pen, hooked, and, after some playing, 
brought to the surface, a strange-looking denizen of the 
deep. It was a broad, spotted fish, with a formidable tail, 
— a species of the ray tribe. " There ! " he said as we got 
him into the boat, " we will call him the bishop fish." The 
good bishop, no doubt, would have objected to this, if it 
implied that he had been caught or tackled in any wa} T . 

Soon after this, John England passed away to that bar 
where all controversies are forever settled. He was very 
popular in Charleston ; and the bod} T , as it lay in state at the 
cathedral, was visited by large multitudes of people. Among 
these was Richard Fuller. For some time, with folded arms 



CONTBOVEBSY. — CATHOLIC. 151 

and thoughtful countenance, he stood near the bodj- of the 
distinguished man whom he had recently met in controversy. 
Under the light of the candles, with strains of music floating 
through the cathedral, and the crowds ebbing and flowing 
through the aisles, one of the giants in that debate was 
sleeping in death, while the other was there watching by his 
side. It was a scene for some great artist to have caught 
and immortalized on canvas. 

When the survivor was laid low, few kinder notices were 
taken of the event than that which appeared in " The 
Catholic Mirror" of Baltimore. Referring to the contro- 
versy, it remarks, — 

" Both, gentlemen were known and respected; and, being fast 
friends in all matters outside of religion, their letters were devoured 
with the greatest interest by persons in all parts of the country. 
Portions appeared in many papers here and across the Atlantic. 

"These two eminent men were fast friends until death removed 
Bishop England ; and, when his works were about to be published, 
Dr. Fuller was one of the very first to subscribe." 



152 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

CONTROVERSY. SLAVERY. 

" Speaking the truth in love." 

A FEW men, by sheer force of personal character, may 
make circumstances, — shape the opinions of others, 
and change the very current of history. But, as a general 
rule, circumstances make men : the customs of societ} T , 
and laws and institutions of the land, determine our char- 
acter almost as certainly as the form and color of the tree 
determine the appearance of certain parasites. If the 
author of the "Moral Science" had lived at the South, 
who doubts that his views of American slavery would 
have been modified by that fact? If the preacher of the 
sermon on the power of "the Cross" had filled a profess- 
or's chair at Brown University, the circumstance, no doubt, 
would have given a different coloring to his sj^stem of 
polemics. 

But God, who "made of one blood all nations of men for 
to dwell on all the face of the earth, and hath determined 
the times before appointed, and the bounds of their habita- 
tion," their places of residence, as well as their order in 
historj 7 , has disposed of the lots of his people for the edifica- 
tion of his Church and the best interests of the world. He 
not only made Francis Waj'land and Richard Fuller what 
they were, but placed them where they were, to teach the 
church and the world at least one lesson, — the meaning 
and value of Christian moderation, courtesy, and love in 



CONTROVERSY. — SLA VER Y. 153 

the midst of difference and debate. The world has seldom 
seen a nobler illustration of the excellence of those passive 
virtues which Dr. Bushnell, in one of his most philosophical 
discourses, affirms to be the true greatness both of God and 
man, than in the history and temper of this controversy. 

The two civilizations of the North and South, like two 
antagonistic elements in chemistiy, necessitated some ex- 
plosion. If any thing could have averted it, and calmed 
the passions of the hour, it was the spirit of this discussion 
between these two representative men of the North and the 
South. If it failed to allay the storm that had been gather- 
ing for half a centurj-, it served, at least, the beneficent pur- 
pose of showing how, in the midst of conflicting views and 
interests, good men can differ, and differ in love. 

First came, in the more sensitive religious elements, the 
division of the great denominations ; then, as a natural 
corollary, the political conflict. The storm has come and 
gone like all storms, necessarily and mercifully, as God has 
ordained, of short duration. "Except those days should 
be shortened, there should no flesh be saved ; but for the 
elect's sake those da}*s shall be shortened." And now there 
is but one feeling with Christians at the South, — a sense of 
relief that this question has been settled in the providence 
of God, thus removing a great burden of personal responsi- 
bility ; and, besides this, an earnest and honest desire to do 
everj T thing in their power for the improvement and salvation 
of the colored people. 

The readers of this book are so familiar with this con- 
troversy, that it will be better to transcribe no entire letter, 
but simply to give a brief summaiy of the argument. The 
subject of discussion was, slavery considered as a scriptural in- 
stitution. Other writers had considered it in its political and 
historical features. The British essayists and reformers, 
and, in this country, Channing, Hammond, Bishop England, 
and others, had lectured and written on these phases of the 



154 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

institution. The question now between the Northern philoso- 
pher and the Southern preacher was as to its scriptural 
aspect and relations. 

The first letter was Dr. Fuller's to the editor of "The 
Christian Chronicle," Philadelphia, in deprecation of the 
growing excitement in the country. After remarking how 
trivial other differences were compared with this, he adds, — 

"These are but bonfires; Ucalegon burns next; and God forbid 
that Christians should be the first to throw the firebrands!" 

This letter drew out Dr. Wayland, whose name occurs in 
it. Then follow the six admirable letters of the author of 
the " Moral Science," — letters which, for force of reason- 
ing, perspicuity of style, and uniform Christian courtesy, are 
models of controversial writing. 

The first letter is in deprecation of the growing sensitive- 
ness of the South, as different from the feeling just after the 
Eevolution. 

The second is an argument from the right to any thing to 
the right of holding it at any and at all hazards, from the 
right to the labor of the slave to the right to enforce it at 
every cost, social, moral, and intellectual, — a reductio ad 
extremum. He then glances at the distinction in moral evil 
between the original wrong and the actual guilt of him who 
is in error ; remarking, that, as to slavery, the extremists in 
one section had looked too exclusively in the one direction, 
and the extremists in the other section too exclusively in 
the other. 

The third letter resumes this in the way of illustration. 

Then follows the statement of the doctrine of expediency. 

Then the explanation of the Old-Testament regulation of 
the evils of slavery and polygamy. 

In the sixth letter is given the New-Testament phase of 
the institution, where the most, he argues, that can be said 
in its favor is, that it is not at once prohibited ; insisting that 



CONTROVERSY. — SLA VERY. 155 

principles, at the same time, were inculcated which would 
necessitate its extinction. 

The seventh letter is a continuation of this argument, 
showing why the matter was left to the gradual working of 
principle, and not at once forbidden in precept. 

The eighth and closing letter is an application of the fore- 
going principles to American slavery, with an a fortiori 
argument, that, if the institution is wrong in its mildest 
forms, it is emphatically so in its necessarily aggravated 
features. 

The six letters of Dr. Fuller in reply are marked by the 
same abilnrv as characterized the Catholic controversy. 

He begins with a graceful recognition of the high and 
distinguished character of his opponent : — 

" If my arguments are refuted, I shall at least fall by no weak 
hand, and shall enjoy whatever of consolation Abimelech coveted, 
when he called hastily unto his armor-bearer, and said unto him, 
' Draw thy sword, and slay me, that men say not of me, A woman 
slew him.' " 

He then refers to the different method and spirit of British 
Christians, — their resort rather to law in Parliament than to 
denunciation in popular assemblies ; and to the fact, as a 
general rule, of their conservative tendencies on coming to 
this county. In this connection he introduces the revivalist 
Whitefield rejoicing as a master over the reported conver- 
sion of his slaves. 

The second letter is a denial of any necessary disability 
as to the moral and religious relations of the slave, arguing 
from the analogy of other relations, as with a child or 
apprentice. 

The third letter resumes the argument, claiming that, if 
the objection holds against slavery as a system of restraint, 
it must hold against all government on the same ground. 
If, instead of the compensation for labor resting with the 
master, it were fixed by law, it would only be a different 



156 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

form of restraint. Each state and country, he argues, must 
determine for itself the best form of this necessary restraint. 

Apart from the question of statutes, he then refers to the 
facts of the relation as existing with Christians ; referring, in 
illustration, to the provision of the Beaufort church for the 
religious instruction of the colored people. 

He then meets the doctrine of expediency — that a thing 
wrong per se may be permitted for a time, with the under- 
standing of its correction by the discovery of the right 
principle in the future — by saying, that, in that case, every 
enthusiast would start forward with the assertion that he 
had found the principle to stop the permission, "imitating 
one of the early fathers, who, when hard pressed by an 
antagonist, was accustomed to cut the debate short by de- 
claring that God had lately vouchsafed to him a fresh reve- 
lation." 

In a characteristic note he adds, — 

" While writing, a number of my servants have come into my 
study to tell me what God has done for their souls. ' It rejoiced my 
soul,' said Whitefield, ' to hear that one of my poor negroes in Caro- 
lina was made a brother in Christ.' How would his heart have over- 
flowed, if, like many masters in these days, he had seen almost all 
his slaves brothers, and happy in the Lord! " 

His sixth and last letter is dated January, 1845. After 
lamenting the increasing agitation, he continues, — 

" But you urge, ' The most effectual way of forbidding sin is, not 
by express precept and prohibition, but by inculcating moral princi- 
ples at variance with it.' To which opinion I can only reply, that 
neither human nor divine wisdom appears to me to concur with you: 
not human wisdom, since all nations find it necessary to enact laws ; 
and I dare say, even in Brown University a code has been established 
for the students. 

" 'Lord Eldon,' you write, 'used to say that no man in England 
could extract an act of Parliament through which he could not drive 
a coach and four.' Suffer me, however, as a lawyer, to assure you, 
that, both in England and America, statutes have been constructed 



CONTROVERSY. — SLAVERY. 157 

through which all the subtlety of Lord Eldon could not have driven 
a single culprit; and, if that nobleman had committed forgery or 
treason, he would inevitably have found himself, not driving through 
an act of Parliament, but driven by it into the Tower, and thence 
upon the scaffold." 

The closing passages show the Christian spirit of the 
writer : — 

"In a familiar correspondence like this I may be pardoned for 
saying, that, during twelve years, I have devoted the salary given me, 
whenever at my disposal, to the spiritual instruction of the slaves." 

He then adds : — 

"Will my brother, or any man at the North, undertake to remove 
them" (speaking of his own slaves), "and give me bond and secu- 
rity that their condition shall be improved ? If so, let him speak, and 
I will then make a proposition which shall at once, and by a test 
more sure than all the writing in the world, determine who is the 
friend of the slave, and who is willing to make sacrifices for his 
good." 

Towards the close he expresses his warm personal friend- 
ship for Dr. "Wa viand : — 

" May you ever be animated in your pious labors by the multi- 
tudes who love and admire you, among whom I shall always be 
found when conscience permits it! For me, I have been schooled to 
say, 'My soul, wait thou only upon God; for my expectation is from 
him.' I expect no enthusiasm from the North, and little even from 
the South. Nor can I approve of the fanaticism of the South any 
more than of that of the North. Farewell! Grace and peace be 
multiplied unto you through the knowledge of God and of Jesus 
our Lord ! That knowledge, we are assured, shall fill this guilty and 
polluted earth as the waters cover the face of the deep. And it is 
with that knowledge, too, as with those waters when the sea is roll- 
ing in, — wave after wave breaks, and is driven back. But the ocean 
is advancing, and before its majesty and strength impotent must 
every barrier prove. Dear brother, most affectionately, 

"R. Fuller." 

In the closing letter Dr. Wayland writes : — 

"My deajr Brother, — It is needless to assure you that I have 
read your letters with profound attention and unfeigned admiration. 



158 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

Nor is the singular ability displayed by any means the highest recom- 
mendation. The warm spirit of philanthropy which pervades every 
part of your argument must melt away every prejudice by which it 
could be resisted; while the love to God, and reverence for his Word, 
which are everywhere so apparent, must, I am sure, give you a place 
in the affections of every true disciple of our common Lord. If 
slavery cannot be defended by such an advocate, I shall believe that 
the defence of it is hopeless. 

• Si Pergama dextra 
Defendi possent, etiam hac defensa fuissent.' " 

Noble souls ! They battled, both of them, for a nobler 
cause than the siege or the defence of Troy, — the cause of 
their common Lord and Master ; and, after the well-fought 
conflict, they are seeing " face to face." 

As to the merits of this controversy, it confirmed only 
what was well established before, — the reputation of these 
two great men for learning, skill, and high Christian char- 
acter. Dr. Wayland, in our judgment, pushed his doctrine 
of expediency too far as a scheme of Christian ethics. Dr. 
Fuller, we are free to admit, did not give sufficient weight to 
some principle of accommodation at least. "The time of 
this ignorance God winked at, but now commandeth men 
everywhere to repent," must mean some necessary scale of 
the kind. Thomas Arnold, in his admirable essay on "The 
Interpretation of the Scriptures," in the first volume of his 
Rugby Sermons, has conclusively shown that some law, if 
not of expediency, yet of accommodation and gradual reve- 
lation, is the only principle on which the education of a sin- 
ful and imperfect race by a holy and perfect Being can 
proceed. 

Like all controversies, the result was rather to confirm the 
previous views and prejudices of the respective partisans 
than to effect any change in their relations. What Miss 
Hall said of the discussion they were anxious to bring about 
between Fuller and the Franciscan in the diligence from 
Naples to Rome is true of this and every controversy, — 



CONTROVERSY. — SLAVERY. 159 

"Such a discussion could not fail to be interesting, whether 
productive of any good results or not." But this discussion 
was productive of at least one good result : it showed how 
good and great men can differ, like Saul and Barnabas, and 
yet differ without the sudden and sharp termination that 
marked the Antioch controversy. It could not stop or divert 
the current that was fast drifting into the rough sea of war ; 
but it exorcised, for a time and to some extent, the more 
denunciatory spirit of the parties, and among thoughtful and 
pious minds, North and South, promoted that feeling of 
mutual respect, which, now that the harsh interlude of strife 
is over, will be strengthened without any further irreconcila- 
ble interests and policy. 

The winter of 1844-45 Dr. Fuller spent at his place at 
Sheldon, where he wrote most of these letters. One day a 
party from his house started, with guns and dogs, on a tramp 
over the fields. "Stop!" cried the doctor as they were 
looking for the game : "let me rest my gun on your shoul- 
der." And, laying the stock of the gun on the shoulder 
of one of the party as a kind of improvised writing-desk, 
with pencil and paper he dotted down something that then 
and there occurred to him. "Here," he said, as he folded 
up the little missive, put it in his pocket, and strode on, — 
" here is a shot at my friend Dr. Wayland." 

Noble souls ! — Francis TVayland, prince of American phi- 
losophers, or twin-star with Jonathan Edwards in that fir- 
mament ; Richard Fuller, prince of American preachers, 
w r ho reigned with a power so supreme in the pulpit, that Dr. 
Wa}iand once remarked to Dr. Chapin, that he would give 
all his learning and philosophy to be able to preach as Rich- 
ard Fuller did. 



160 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 



CHAPTER XIX. 

REMOVAL TO BALTIMORE. 

" I see a hand you cannot see, 
Which beckons me away ; 
I hear a voice you cannot hear, 
Which says I may not stay." 

HISTORICALLY and commercially, Baltimore is one of 
the first cities on the continent. In religious matters 
it has claimed the honor of having first advocated the doc- 
trine of religious liberty. The facts seem to show that it 
was rather religious toleration which Calvert and his asso- 
ciates granted to the early settlers in Maryland than the 
full religious liberty which Roger Williams made the corner- 
stone of the Rhode-Island Commonwealth. Toleration is 
not libert3 r , but implies inferiority. But ' ' honor to whom 
honor is due." Lord Baltimore and his associates, smart- 
ing under the persecution to which they had been subjected 
by the high-church Episcopacy of the old country, founded 
this asylum on the banks of the Chesapeake, to which set- 
tlers were invited on liberal terms ; and Baltimore soon 
became, what it has alwaj^s been, one of the most important 
centres and emporiums of the country. 

The prejudices of early religious training leave their mark 
upon communities as well as upon individuals. The Baptists, 
whose theory of religion and the church is most distinctly 
antagonistic to the Catholic, had all this prestige and preju- 
dice arrayed against them from the beginning. While 
strong to the North and South, in this middle belt they 



BEMOVAL TO BALTIMOBE. 161 

were for years, as they are still, comparatively weak. Men 
like Davis (the Baptist pioneer in this section in the last 
centuiy), after him Lemon and Richards, then the devoted 
Adams, and Stephen P. Hill (poet as well as preacher) , had 
all done battle manfully for the truth ; but it was against 
fearful odds, and with the additional burden of frequent 
internal dissensions. 

Such was the field and city to which Dr. Fuller was called 
in 1846. Influence, like happiness, comes, not from making ^ 
it a prime object of pursuit, but from a simple devotion to 
duty. And Richard Fuller, from his consecration to his 
work, his rare abilities, and the fame of his controversial 
writings, had been placed prominently before the denomina- 
tion in the whole country : indeed, his name was at this 
time well known among all denominations. Robert C. Win- 
throp writes of a sermon he heard him preach about this time 
at Saratoga, \>j which he was much impressed both as to the 
matter and delivery. But the one sermon, which, more than 
an} 7 other, gave him a national reputation, was the famous 
sermon " On the Cross," before the Triennial Convention in 
Baltimore, in the spring of 1841. 

"When but a youth" (writes Dr. Franklin Wilson of Baltimore) 
' I heard him preach his memorable sermon before the Baptist Tri- 
ennial Convention in Baltimore, April 28, 1841. It gave me, as it 
did multitudes of others, higher views of the glory of the cross, and 
of the true way to preach it. From that moment I honored and 
loved the preacher." 

The sermon is in the first volume of the printed discourses. ^ 
As with Whitefield's sermons, of which it has been said that 
you can no more print them than you can print thunder and 
lightning, the full impression of this discourse can hardly be 
gathered from reading it. It has more than thunder and 
lightning : it has some passages of exquisite pathos. In 
the language of McLaurin, — whose equally famous sermon, 
'•On Glorying in the Cross," it equals in power, and sur- 



162 LIFE OF BICHABD FULLER. 

passes in pathos, — it is " beyond the force of thunder, and 
more mild than the dew on the tender grass." Such was 
the effect of its delivery, that strong men were seen to weep 
like children ; and, as the preacher sat down, some of these 
embraced each other in the fulness of the emotions excited 
by the closing appeal to memories of the sainted dead and 
the constraining influence of the love of Christ. This was 
one of the links in the chain that led to his settlement in 
Baltimore. 

He had received numerous and flattering calls to churches 
of wealth and position ; but all had been steadily declined. 
He was once approached on the subject of the presidency of 
Columbian College. "I would not exchange my pulpit, 
where I can preach Christ, for all the chairs of all the col- 
leges in the world," was his reply. 

The history of this call to Baltimore, and its acceptance, 
is explained in the following correspondence : — 

Beaufoet, 4th February, 1846. 

Dear Brethren, — Here is a «trange thing. Over and over have 
I received calls from large and flourishing churches, and this when 
we were here in a most cramped and uncomfortable house ; yet all 
these calls have occasioned no debate in my bosom. Now we have 
just finished a large and beautiful chapel, and revivals have filled it, 
and every thing conspires to make me happy, when a call from you 
fills me with perplexity. It is, however, as it should be. Your wants 
and afflictions move me when your prosperity would not. I am now 
(and have been for a month or more) painfully engrossed in trying to 
save the Second Baptist Church in Charleston, and to restore har- 
mony there. God, I trust, has prospered his work. Your communi- 
cation found me thus absorbed ; yet I confess it has pressed me day 
and night to a degree strange and unaccountable, unless God be 
meaning something. 

The sacrifice of breaking up here would be to me and my family 
such as you little conceive. This, however, would, of course, not 
interfere. To be Christians is to feel practically, that, " living or 
dying, we are the Lord's;" and all sacrifices were, I humbly hope, 
comprehended in the act by which, years ago, I became the Lord's. 
The salary (to which you allude, or I would not have mentioned it) 



BEMOVAL TO BALTIMORE. 163 

could easily be arranged. Twelve years ago I gave up a profession 
yielding me annually about six thousand dollars, and have never 
received a dollar since for my labors. I would employ most of it, 
should I come, wholly for the good of the church. But now there 
seems to me insuperable difficulties to which you do not refer. 

First, you say nothing of a house. Surely you do not mean me 
to come, and both preacher and people do so suicidal a thing as to 
occupy that shell in Calvert Street. If you have bought it, I sub- 
mit to you that you made a mistake ; and whoever becomes your pas- 
tor, unless you rectify that mistake, I feel certain that your position 
will be the prophecy or anticipation of utter defeat. 

I love Baltimore : I love you. I confess, too, that, if I should move, 
it would be just into a latitude like yours, as I wish to look at slavery 
and other agitating topics with a calm and impartial judgment, and 
see what is our duty to our poor, distracted country. But I cannot 
come to Baltimore to do nothing. I am a practical man, caring 
nothing about what men talk, and regarding works as the only cri- 
terion of character. If I make sacrifices, I must have men to be with 
me in them. For example, out of the salary suppose I subscribe five 
hundred dollars for five years, — twenty-five hundred, — what will 
you all do ? Will you get a lot, and right away begin a large house ? 
Now is the time. Begin afresh, and at once take a high stand. 

Write me on this point. I only wish we could meet, as writing 
is to me a most wretched medium of communication. 

God bless you ! 

Your affectionate brother in the Lord, 

R. Fuller. 

P. S. — I repeat that you will regard my entertaining the corre- 
spondence at all as simply the result of my conscientious solicitude 
about duty. I am informed that already you have called brethren Wyer 
and Magoon, and that both declined. Some say you are the noblest 
body of Baptists in the land : others have some grains of scruple as 
to that, and doubt if any pastor could please you. All this to me is 
moonshine. If you are Christians, and feel that you and yours are 
Christ's, we could easily adjust minor things. We have the truth, 
and it is a shame that the advocates of truth should be as depressed 
and down-trodden as the Baptists have been in your city. Do, I 
implore you all, make noble sacrifices ; resolve upon great and noble 
things. Affectionately, R. F. 

This letter has the true ring about it. A minister who 
says to his brethren, not "Go and do this," but, with the 



164 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

spirit of a true captain, " Come, follow me, and do this," has 
the right to speak of sacrifices. The trumpet gave no uncer- 
tain note, and the response was worthy of the occasion. 

Baltimore, Feb. 13, 1846. 

De ae Brother Fuller, — Your very cheering and welcome let- 
ter of the 4th inst. was received yesterday. On reviewing its con- 
tents, we are constrained to thank our God, and take courage. We 
have long been laboring and praying for the much-loved Baptist 
cause in our city, and on no subject having reference to that object 
have our hearts been more unitedly and earnestly engaged than in 
that of obtaining a pastor sufficient for the great and important work 
before us. Our trust, we humbly hope, has been in the Lord ; and 
we now feel that our prayers have not been in vain. We believe we 
see the dawning of a bright day for the down-trodden and depressed 
Baptist cause in Baltimore. In your letter we recognize the spirit of 
a zealous brother in Christ, jealous and anxious to promote the glory 
of our Master and his cause. Our doubts, and feelings of despond- 
ency, vanish before the encouragements you give us that the Lord 
in his goodness and mercy may direct you here. 

We note your remarks on our present location in Calvert Street. 
We never regarded that as a permanent establishment for our church. 

We are all deeply affected by the practical, liberal, and self-devoted 
spirit with which you enter into a plan for erecting a new house; 
and we do assure you that such is also the spirit and feelings of this 
church, which, with the gracious smiles of our heavenly Father, 
will be carried out by corresponding action. Only assure us, dear 
Brother Fuller, that your lot will be cast among us, and a new, ele- 
gant, and appropriate edifice will be commenced forthwith. We are 
able and willing of ourselves to accomplish this work ; and we risk 
nothing in saying, that, in the event of your taking charge of our 
church, we may calculate upon aid from many Baptists in senti- 
ment who are now wandering about, and seldom attend any of our 
churches. 

A meeting of the church was called last evening, at which your 
letter was read, and the following among other proceedings adopted 
unanimously : — 

"Resolved, That we, the members of the Seventh Baptist Church 
of Baltimore, the blessing of God attending our efforts, pledge our- 
selves to erect a house for the worship of Almighty God that shall 
be creditable to the denomination, in the event of Brother Richard 
Fuller coming in our midst to labor as our pastor. 



REMOVAL TO BALTIMORE. 165 

" Resolved, That the Board of Deacons be directed to correspond 
with Brother Fuller in reference to the action of this meeting, and 
tender him an invitation to visit us at his earliest convenience." 

In the bonds of Christian love, your brethren, the deacons of the 
Seventh Baptist Church. 

This was the vision of the man of Macedonia saying to 
him, "Come over and help ns ; " and he assuredly gath- 
ered that the Lord had called him to preach the gospel to 
them. 

It was a day of trouble with the dear flock in Beaufort 
when the purpose of their honored pastor was made known. 
All — rich and poor, white and colored — gathered about him, 
and sought to divert him from it. But Dr. "Wajdand knew 
him when he said of him, he was " a man, who, as far as 
he knew the will of God, submitted to it without reserve ; " 
and with high resolve, and in a spirit of self-sacrifice, pastor 
and people brought themselves at last to the severance of a 
relation which had been as tender in its nature as it had 
been fruitful and blessed in its results. 

The farewell services are held in the dear house built amid 
prayers and tears. The lesson from the Scriptures is the 
twentieth chapter of Acts, — Paul's farewell to the elders of 
the church at Ephesus, — the text from the next chapter: 
" What mean ye to weep, and to break my heart? for I am 
read}' not to be bound only, but also to die at Jerusalem 
for the name of the Lord Jesus. And, when he would not 
be persuaded, we ceased, saying, The will of the Lord be 
done." 

In the spring of 1847 he turns his face towards Baltimore. 
He had expected to reach that city, and enter on his work, in 
May ; but, feeliug it would be better to wait for the comple- 
tion of the new building, he lingers on the way to preach the 
gospel in Richmond and Petersburg. From the last city he 
writes with the spirit of the soldier eager and panting for 
the battle : — 



166 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

Petersburg, Va., June 17, 1847. 
My deae Brother Norris, — God willing, I shall be with you 
on Monday. My time, and any poor talents I may have, yea, my life, 
are at your service. Only uphold me, and be true to the truth (as I 
know you will be), and I will work with you all, and God will not be 
wanting to us. 

You speak of expecting too much from me. You will soon see 
enough to cure you of dependence on me. My brother, let us all go 
at once to God, and cry to him to revive his work. On him is all my 
trust, in him all my joy; my soul waits only on him; and from him 
is my expectation. 

My love to Sister Norris and the brethren. 

Your affectionate brother, 

E. Fuller. 

In a few da} x s more he is in his new field, the city of his 
adoption. 

The opening services in Baltimore were based on the 
account of Paul's entrance into Rome as recorded in Acts 
xxviii. : " When the brethren heard of us, they came to meet 
us as far as Appii Forum and the Three Taverns ; whom 
when Paul saw, he thanked God, and took courage." The 
Rev. Mr. Wyer of Warrenton, Va., the son of the beloved 
Henry O. Wyer, writes of this service, which he attended, 
as one of unusual interest. It must have been a vivid reali- 
zation in the preacher's mind of the apostle's feelings at 
Appii Forum, as he stood at the entering-in of his own work 
in Baltimore. In his visit to Europe and Italy he had stood 
in the very tracks of Paul. As the apostle once stood in the 
shadow of Nero's throne, he had been in the shadow of St. 
Peter's, and now, in Baltimore, was standing in one of the 
strongholds of Romanism in this country. Next to the love 
of Christ, the heart of the apostle had found its greatest 
solace in Christian sj'iripatlry and fellowship. This was his 
(the preacher's) strength and comfort, — "the love of 
Christ," and the prayers and co-operation of his brethren. 
Such was the keynote of a blessed ministry of nearly thirty 
years in Baltimore, — the love of Christ and the power of 
Christian sympathy. 



REMOVAL TO BALTIMORE. Ii37 

Leaning, as Richard Fuller once did, with a tendency, 
strengthened by a cultivated taste, to ritualism in religion, 
he had been brought, in conversion, into the fulness of that 
liberty wherewith Christ makes his people free, and had 
united with the Baptist Church as most nearly representing 
the New-Testament ideal of a spiritual church in its oppo- 
sition to the Catholic and semi-Catholic S3'stems of heredi- 
tary membership. But he was too true a man and good a 
Baptist to forget, not the teaching of Calvert as to religious 
toleration, but the broader principle of the Rhode-Island 
legislator as to full soul-lib erty , — liberty for others as well 
as for himself. This, however, onry intensified his opposition 
to every form of superstition and error, and strengthened his 
purpose to preach that gospel of the grace of God, which he 
felt eveiywhere, and especially in Baltimore, to be the one 
and only hope of the world. Paul entered Rome as a pris- 
oner guarded by soldiers ; he, in the possession of civil as 
well as religious freedom : but both Paul and Richard Fuller 
were cheered by Christian sympathy, and supported by that 
" peace of God which passeth all understanding," and which 
the apostle, in his affectionate Letter to the Philippians 
from Rome, speaks of as a sentinel who shall "keep" — 
that is, guard as a Roman soldier watching over the camp, 
— " your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus." 



168 LIFE OF BICHARI) FULLER. 



CHAPTER XX. 

WORK IN BALTIMORE. 
* 4 Acta, non dicta apostolorum." 

THIS was a favorite quotation with Richard Fuller: 
indeed, it was the motto of his life. He was pre- 
eminently an earnest, practical man: so that we are not 
surprised to find, as the condition of his entertaining the call 
to Baltimore, the prompt erection of a suitable house of 
worship. 

A great evil in modern church-history is the extravagance 
often shown in the matter of church-building. A noble art 
has been perverted to a bad end ; and architecture, instead 
of being a simple handmaid to religion, has been made to 
minister to a spirit of extravagance and pride among the 
followers of the meek and lowly Jesus. How many millions 
expended in gorgeous churches could have been put to 
better use in sending the gospel to the heathen, or in re- 
lieving some of the horrors of that pauperism that often 
festers in the very shadow of these magnificent temples ! 
It is time for Christians of all denominations to correct this 
evil. 

But the taste, the sense of beaut} 7 , which God has given 
us. and which expresses itself in the love of music and archi- 
«, like every gift of God, must be sanctified with the 
%l^ and the erection of houses of worship, which, 

w!^^K»«" t re commodious and comfortable, shall do violence 
to no aesthetic principles of our nature, is a valuable aid, if 



WORK IN BALTIMORE. 169 

not a positive necessity, in religious work in our large cities. 
Dr. Fuller had seen, from personal observation in Italy, that 
the gorgeous creations of Raphael and Michael Angelo had 
depressed, rather than aided, the religious spirit. But, while 
he was no art or image worshipper, he was as far from the 
iconoclastic spirit which despises the advantages of good 
music and a chastened architecture in worship. As the 
result of this practical wisdom and foresight, the present fine 
building of the Seventh Baptist Church was erected at the 
corner of Paca and Saratoga Streets, and occupied ever since 
as a convenient candlestick for the light and diffusion of the 
gospel. 

But this was but a preliminary arrangement. The real 
work then began, — a work which, for nearly thirty 3 T ears, he 
prosecuted with unabated interest and devotion. The work 
of a conscientious minister in a large city is no sinecure. 
It is related of the famous Ambrose, who flourished in the 
fourth century, that, when the people of Milan insisted on 
making him their bishop, such was his sense of the magni- 
tude of the office, that, to escape their import unit}', he fled 
from the city, until, arrested and led back, he reluctantly 
3'ielded to their wishes. With a minister like Dr. Fuller, who 
realized the sacredness of his calling, it was often an over- 
whelming sense of its responsibilities. 

Then the contact of so many sects and systems in large 
cities renders controvers}*, in some cases, unavoidable. Dr. 
Jeter, who visited Italy some } r ears ago, reported, that, with 
not a few thoughtful .minds, the impression obtained, that, 
when the change shall come in the religious sentiments of 
the people, it will be in the direction of Baptist principles 
as the most distinct alternative and offset of Romanism. 
But, in opposition to the great body of Protestants M 

as Catholics, Baptists have always held the c*ri 
Testament theory of the ordinances and the en .nis, 

when fully presented, and to any extent accepted by the 



170 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

members of other communions, will provoke controversy. It 
is said that Dr. Fuller, after his Catholic and" slavery con- 
troversies, was averse to such conflicts. But there was a 
measure of this which he could not avoid. He held it to be 
a sacred duty to declare the whole truth, controverted or 
uncontro verted, " as it is in Jesus." 

His labors in Baltimore soon began to bear fruit. The 
church was aroused to greater zeal ; sinners were awakened 
and converted ; while, as a natural concomitant of the work, 
members of different communions were led to look more 
closely into the scriptural theory of baptism and church-mem- 
bership. Newspaper articles and pulpit addresses began to 
question and sharply criticise the position of the hitherto 
obscure Baptists. This led to occasional lectures by Dr. 
Fuller on baptism and the terms of communion. These were 
afterwards published by the Southern Baptist Publication 
Society, Charleston, S.C. The argument on baptism, if not 
as learned and exhaustive as Carson's work, will be read 
where Carson, for his voluminousness and severity, will be 
neglected. His argument for what is called " close com- 
munion," which he shifts to the proper question and prelimi- 
nary of close baptism, will always maintain a respectable 
stand among works of the kind, not only from the fame of 
its author, but from the intrinsic force and perspicuity of the 
reasoning. 

But if ever minister lived and acted up to the apostolic 
rule, " I determined not to know any thing among you save 
Jesus Christ and him crucified," it was Richard Fuller. And 
the Lord blessed him in the preaching of his gospel. As he 
seldom, if ever, preached a sermon where " Christ and him 
crucified " was not the prominent theme, so we have never 
known a preacher who held such audiences with such unflag- 
ging interest on that single theme to the end. He had found 
that " the old, old story " was always the fresh and welcome 
story to poor, lost humanity. This had been the burden of 



WORK IN BALTIMORE. 171 

his ministry in Beaufort ; this was the burden of his ministry 
in Baltimore. 

Perhaps no living minister in Baltimore was more intimate 
with him than Dr. Franklin Wilson. The following extracts 
from some reminiscences furnished by Dr. Wilson will show 
the estimate of this period of Dr. Fuller's ministry as taken 
by a close and sagacious observer : — 

" It was to me a great privilege, when he removed to Baltimore in 
1847, to be his frequent associate in the social circle and in Christian 
work. I was then a young and inexperienced pastor of the High- 
street Baptist Church, and derived much profit and enjoyment from 
his sympathy, counsel, and assistance. 

" One sermon that he preached for me, on the barren fig-tree, was 
remarkable for its great power. On another occasion, at the close of a 
most impressive discourse, he asked all Christians present to kneel in 
prayer. Then, tenderly addressing the many impenitent who had re- 
mained seated, he invited all who desired the prayers of Christians to 
kneel also. A few at first complied ; but, as he stood looking kindly 
but sadly upon the rest, they gave way before him, one by one, until 
every soul in the house was bowed before God. It was a most solemn 
moment, and quite a number there bowed their hearts to Jesus. 
One hardened sinner told me afterwards that Dr. Fuller that night 
brought him to his knees for the first time in many years. 

"It would be impossible to recount the numerous occasions in 
which I, in common with most of his hearers, have been melted to 
tears, and deeply affected, by his thrilling appeals. I recall especially 
his sermon in Washington, at the meeting of the Maryland Union 
Association in 1850, on the text, 'Behold the Lamb of God!' (John 
i. 3(5. ) After a vivid description of the spotlessness of the Lamb and 
the sufferings of the victim, his feelings overcame him: he ceased to 
speak, laid his head on the open Bible, and gave way to sobs. The 
effect on his audience was overwhelming. We all wept with him. 
Near me were old gray-headed men, deacons and preachers, weeping 
like children. At the funeral of an aged ' mother in Israel,' held in 
the First Baptist Church, and attended by a large concourse, a simi- 
lar effect was observed during a prayer made by Brother Fuller. As 
he prayed for the family, commencing with the touching words, — 
uttered in broken, tender tones, evidently from his very heart, — ' O 
God, we can lose a mother but once ! ' the whole assembly was moved 
as the trees of a forest shaken by a mighty wind." 



172 LIFE OF RICH ABB FULLER. 

But as the corollaries of a problem expand and enforce 
the main proposition, so there are elements of a pastor's 
work which must supplement the labors of the pulpit to 
give them efficiency and success. He was at first, in Beau- 
fort, more of the preacher than pastor. This was probably 
due to his training as a lawyer. But he soon corrected this ; 
and when he came to Baltimore, and to the close of his min- 
istry, he was most scrupulous and devoted in this department 
of pastoral visitation. Napoleon, while he planned and 
fought his great battles, is said to have supervised every 
detail of the campaign : so this good soldier of the cross, 
while he fought the battles of the Lord in the pulpit, "in 
demonstration of the Spirit and of power," followed these 
up with the work of personal contact and sympathy with 
every member of his flock. This was secured by constant 
and judicious visitation. A gossip is one of the burdens 
of society, and an ecclesiastical gossip is the worst evil of 
all. But no man knew better than he how to recommend 
religion from house to house, as well as in formal discourses 
from the pulpit. 

We continue Dr. Wilson's account : — 

"His great success in winning souls was due as much to his faith- 
fulness in private as in public labor. The inquiry-meeting, which 
he held with the greatest punctuality every Monday, was the means, 
under God, of making permanent the impressions of the day before. 
He seldom failed to have some burdened souls attend, and joyfully 
pointed them to Jesus. His church was thus blessed with a quiet 
but steady accession of converts, without resorting to extraordinary 
measures. He was a friend, however, to revivals, and occasionally 
was aided in special meetings by evangelists such as Knapp and 
Earle. Once, when I was conversing with the young pastor of a 
mission-station in Maryland, a very hard field, he remarked, ' I shall 
never succeed there without frequent visiting.' Dr. Fuller, who was 
standing near, overheard the remark, and, turning quickly, exclaimed 
almost sternly, ' Young man, don't you know that you can't succeed 
anywhere without visiting ? If the apostle Paul were here, he would 
spend most of his time on his knees, praying from house to house.' 



WORK IN BALTIMORE. 173 

Dr. Fuller did not depend on his great eloquence, but was a most 
diligent pastor. His bereaved people now mourn his absence from 
their homes in their hours of affliction more, perhaps, than they do 
his vacant pulpit. 

"He had wonderful tact in introducing religious conversation. 
Out of many instances I select one or two. I was with him in the 
house of a gentleman who was not a Christian. We three were look- 
ing together at some pictures which adorned the walls. One of them 
represented a man knocking at a door. Brother Fuller turned to the 
gentleman, and solemnly asked him, 'Does that remind you of any 
thing?' A little confused, he answered, 'No.' Brother Fuller re- 
plied, ' Christ has been knocking these many years at the door of your 
heart. Won't you let him in ?' The question made a deep impres- 
sion on me, as I think it must have done on the gentleman ad- 
dressed. 

" At another time I was with him at tea in the house of an ungodly 
man who was not likely to invite his guests to hold family wor- 
ship ; but Brother Fuller easily accomplished the object at the close 
of the meal by saying, 'Let us spend a moment in prayer,' and im- 
mediately kneeling at his seat, in which he was followed by all at the 
table. 

"I once heard him administer a delicate but pointed reproof to 
a lady, who, like Martha, was 'cumbered with much serving.' The 
occasion was a dedication of a meeting-house in another city. Dr. 
Fuller had preached in the morning one of his most fervent sermons, 
full of Christ. When we returned to our temporary home, we were 
surprised to find a most sumptuous dinner awaiting us. Our hostess 
had loaded her table with every delicacy of the season, prepared in 
the most elegant manner, Sunday though it was. Dr. Fuller said no 
more than this, ' What would the apostle Paul have thought of such 
a feast as this on Sunday ? ' and partook very sparingly of the enter- 
tainment. 

' ' I once drove him to a neighboring village to visit a dying infidel, 
— a man of culture with whom he had been acquainted in his college- 
days. I remained in the carriage during his call. When he returned, 
his countenance wore a very sad expression as he recounted his inter- 
view with the dying man. Among other things which pained him 
greatly was a remark made by the infidel concerning an eminent 
preacher with whom he had been very intimate. Said he, ' Do you 

know Dr. ? Isn't he a jolly fellow?' What a description for 

an infidel to give of his intimate friend, a Christian minister! Instead 
of warning him, and pleading and praying with him, he was a ' jolly 



174 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

fellow.' This remark made a deep impression on Dr. Fuller's mind; 
and I heard him afterwards narrate it in an ordination charge which 
he gave, when, shaking his fore-finger solemnly at the young brother, 
he added, 'Don't you be a jolly fellow.' 

" Brother Fuller was himself of a highly genial temperament, gifted 
with a keen sense of the ludicrous, and, at proper times, indulging in 
sparkling sallies of wit. He was the life of the social circle, and at 
the dinner-table or in the parlor could and often did charm the whole 
company with his bright sayings, and bursts of humor. He loved 
sunshine ; and often when walking with him, even in warm weather, 
would he choose the sunny side of the street. And, like sunshine, 
he radiated on every side, among his family and friends, the light 
of a cheerful spirit as well as of a brilliant intellect, but always as a 
dignified, consistent Christian minister. 

" The following interesting narrative was written by Dr. Fuller 
himself for ' The True Union,' — a religious paper of which I was 
for several years the editor. The dying infidel is the one referred to 
in the foregoing ' Eeminiscences.' 

" ' It was in the year 1832 that a stranger passed a few days in Bal- 
timore. Nought recked he of God, or the things of God. The only 
sabbath during his stay was spent at the hospitable mansion of Mr. 
O., about a mile from the city; and its hours were consumed in 
mirth and conviviality with a party as gay and thoughtless as him- 
self. 

" 'Time rolled on, and effaced from the memory of that traveller 
all recollections of the wine-party and the desecrated sabbath. His 
home was in sunnier climes. Thither hied he, little dreaming that 
ever his abode should be in this city, and that one day God would 
bring his sin to remembrance, and cause it to flash in bitterly upon 
him. 

" 'Yet so it was. The mercy which had been so patient, which 
had never ceased to pursue that wanderer wherever his restless 
spirit bore him, — that mercy was at last triumphant. With a gush- 
ing, heart our traveller fell at the feet of Jesus, bathing them with 
the tears of penitential love. 

" ' In the year 1847 a carriage drove up to the door of one of the 
pastors of Baltimore, with a note requesting him at once to attend a 
gentleman dangerously ill at the village of P., some eight miles from 
the city. On entering the chamber, he saw a man still young, — 
probably not more than forty. But how wan and withered that form 
and face ! What deep traces of thought and passion graven on that 
countenance ! Often had that pastor sat at the couch of death, but 



WORK IN BALTIMORE. 175 

never at a couch so sad and desolate. The sick man extended his 
pale, wasted hand, and thanked him for the visit, hut soon dashed 
all hopes by the principles he avowed. He had been a child of wild 
and fiery impulses ; had wandered in distant lands, and drained to 
satiety the bitter cup of pleasure, so misnamed: and now he was 
prepared to die calmly and fearlessly in the wretched delusion of the 
infidel. 

" ' The interview was to the minister of religion most painful. 
Here was a conscience which seemed seared, a heart inaccessible to 
all the appeals of the gospel; and the pastor was about to leave in 
utter despair. Suddenly the dying man turned to him those eyes 
which hitherto had burned as if fire had glowed beneath them, but 
which were now moistened, and said, "Sir, my sister;" and at 
these words he covered his face, and tears choked his utterance. 
To one who has had a pious sister no interpretation of such a 
spectacle is needed. This unhappy man had had a sister, then, 
whose affection had never forsaken him, whose gentle remon- 
strances had still followed him; and, all lost to God as he seemed, 
the tones of that sister's voice were still vibrating upon his heart, 
the echoes of that sister's tender accents still lingered amid the 
ruins. 

" ' He confessed that it was even so. When young he had left his 
home, and bidden farewell to an only sister. He had forgotten God, 
and flung the reins upon the neck of his headlong passions, and braved 
death in many and fearful shapes. But that sister had never lost 
sight of him. Still her prayers were interposing between him and 
the vengeance his sins attracted. " Often," said he, " have her letters 
reached me when my soul was dark with guilt and gloom, and for a 
time rescued me from guilt." It was the memory of that sister which 
now softened and subdued that haughty spirit. 

" 'He died. Slowly, on a calm autumnal afternoon, wound the 
funeral procession along the road, and entered at length the gloomy 
portals of that Necropolis whose silent population is fast rivalling in 
numbers the living masses of our city. In the first carriage rode the 
pastor above mentioned, who had lately removed to Baltimore. As 
he passed beneath the archway, and looked around, a flood of recol- 
lection poured in upon his soul. " What place is this ? " — " Green- 
mount, sir." — "It was once the residence of Mr. O.? " — "It was, 
sir." Need I say more? That minister of God was the traveller; 
and for the first time was he now revisiting the spot, where, with 
wine and mirth, the sabbath had been profaned. There stood the 
same old mansion; there waved the same trees; above him bent the 



176 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

same skies : but all else how changed ! Where was now the sound 
of festivity and joy ? where were the laugh, the gibe, the jest ? where 
the eyes radiant with beauty, and the lips whose wit had set the table 
in a roar ? Of all those gay revellers, how few left! how many gath- 
ered to the tomb, summoned to the dread tribunal with the sins of 
that sabbath upon their souls ! 

' ' ' And why was he here ? Why had he been spared ? Why had 
grace singled him out, and not only pardoned his guilt, and filled his 
bosom with peace, but confided to him the inestimable treasure of 
the ministry of Christ ? The coffin was placed in one of the vaults 
at the eastern part of the cemetery. Of that funeral group few 
seemed to feel. But there were two who sobbed aloud. One was the 
only son of the deceased, a boy about twelve. He moaned and cried 
as if his heart would break. He had lost a father, who, whatever 
his faults, had doated upon his child. The other was the officiating 
minister. Floods rolled down his cheeks ; and why? Did he weep in 
sorrow for the dead, and in sympathy with the boy ? He did. But 
there was another, a deeper, a hidden fountain, which had been 
opened by the admonitions of the place. His profusest tears were 
tears of contrition, of penitence, of gratitude, of love, as he recalled 
the past, and wondered and adored.' " 

Such is a fair outline of his work in its different depart- 
ments, as he prosecuted it through years of constant, un- 
tiring effort. The church at Saratoga and Paca Streets 
became not only a stronghold and rallying-point for the 
Baptists, but a place of attraction to strangers visiting the 
city. The church was greatly increased in its membership : 
' ' The Lord added to the church daily such as should be 
saved." Scarcely a fortnight passed without the adminis- 
tration of the ordinance of baptism : often, for months, it 
was a weekly service. Many of these, alas ! fell away. 
Even the apostle had to lament these defections: "Demas 
hath forsaken me, having loved this present world." But 
the permanent additions were large and valuable, and con- 
tinue to this day as the seals of that ministry. Another 
blessing crowned these ministrations. In the perverseness 
of our nature, we are apt to distort and abuse the gifts of 
God. The independence of the churches is the scriptural 



WORK IN BALTIMORE. 177 

idea and plan ; but how often is this perverted into isolation 
and estrangement ! The churches of Baltimore had suffered 
not a little from this cause ; but the labors of this servant 
of Jesus, by the catholic spirit they manifested and the 
generous enthusiasm they excited, corrected this tendency, 
and shaped and fostered a better spirit and polic} r . 

It is said to have been the watchword of the famous 
Henry of Navarre, when going into battle, " Rally around 
my white plume! " and that plume was ever seen, as a 
banner, in the thickest of the fight. In a better and nobler 
cause Richard Fuller's watchword was, "Behold the Lamb 
of God ! " and " in season and out of season," as a shining 
captain in the hosts of God's elect, he gave the word, and 
led the way, and fought the good fight of faith. But there 
is a limit to human endurance. These eloquent sermons, 
and earnest counsels, and unremitting efforts, exhausted and 
consumed, while they ennobled and blessed him as a man 
and minister. His health gave way, and the great leader 
was well-nigh lost to the cause. 

As with his work in Beaufort he was laid aside for a 
season, so in Baltimore he was well-nigh consumed by the 
fire of his own devotion ; and in the winter of 1848 he was 
obliged to seek the milder climate of his native State. When 
he arrived in Beaufort, and met his brothers and sisters at 
the old family mansion, it was such a wreck and skeleton of 
himself, that they burst into sobs: "Is this Richard, our 
brother ! " so changed was the wan face and thin figure from 
the strong and manly form that left them a few years before 
for his new field of labor. It was the soldier coming back, 
after a hard-fought campaign, covered with the marks and 
scars of battle. A likeness of him taken at that time looked 
more like a spectre than a man, with the sunken cheeks, and 
hollow eyes, and gaunt frame. But the iron will, and kin- 
dling genius, and undying faith, were there ; and on a diet 
of "hard tack," and with rough exercise among the fields 



178 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

and woods of dear old Sheldon, he sprang back to life and 
health again, like one of the hickory bows with which Henry 
and himself used, as boys, to shoot the squirrels and wood- 
peckers among the magnolias, regaining its elasticity and 
strength after being unstrung and laid aside for a while. 



CONVENTION-WORK. 1 79 



CHAPTER XXI. 



CON VENTION- WORK . 



"And Abram said unto Lot, Let there be no strife, I pray thee, between me and 
thee; for we be brethren. Is not the whole land before thee? " 

THE three leading denominations — Methodist, Presb}'- 
terian, and Baptist — had acted on the advice of 
Abraham to Lot, and formed separate organizations, — 
bodies which, though the main cause that created them has 
ceased to act, are still perpetuated from the simple fact and 
momentum of their existence. It was a judicious division of 
labor, when, in the foreign-mission department, China, Italy, 
and Africa were assigned to the South, — China, with its 
conservatism of ages ; Italy, with its sunny skies and imagi- 
native population ; and Africa, with its dusky myriads, 
stretching out its hands to God, and with a special appeal to 
those who had grown up with its children in this country. 
The home department embraced the territory of the South 
and South- West, — the region that has been desolated by the 
late war ; while the red men on the frontier were made the 
objects of its special care. In addition to these main ob- 
jects, the collateral interests of education and Sunday-school 
work were understood as topics claiming the attention of 
ever}- annual gathering. Dr. Wa}'land, in his admirable 
notes on Baptist principles and practices, takes exception to 
the earlier general societies, as calculated to trench on the 
independence and efficienc}' of the churches. Whatever 
ground of apprehension may have existed at first, in both 



180 LIFE OF RICHAED FULLER. 

the Northern and Southern conventions, as now organized, 
there is not only no peril of any centralized ecclesiastical 
power, but an obvious advantage, if not necessity, in these 
societies for the promotion of the life and efficiency of the 
churches. 

In such work Ei chard Fuller could not fail to be an active 
co-laborer, and few had the peculiar gift and training to give 
the same effectiveness to their sympathy. In the old Trien- 
nial Convention he was associated with such men as Wa}^- 
land and Bolles and Cone, and Eice and Knowles and Peck, 
and others, — names "of whom the world was not worthy." 
At this time he was known and loved more as a preacher of 
the gospel than as a counsellor shaping the deliberations of 
the body ; but when the Southern Baptist Convention was 
formed, in 1845, in Augusta, Ga., he was at once acknowl- 
edged as a trusted leader in all matters of grave deliberation, 
as well as a popular preacher of the gospel. 

Both in the old convention and the more recent Southern 
organization, it was understood that Dr. Fuller, when pres- 
ent, would preach before the body. On these occasions he 
delivered some of those masterly discourses which produced 
great impressions at the time, and established his reputation 
as one of the foremost of American preachers. Such was 
the famous sermon " On the Cross," — " And I, if I be lifted 
up from the earth, will draw all men unto me," — preached 
before the Triennial Convention in Baltimore April 28, 1841. 
Though the preacher speaks of it as an argument, it is less 
strictly logical in its arrangement than many of .his pub- 
lished discourses ; but in grandeur of theme, vividness of 
conception, and continuous, impassioned earnestness of stjde 
and delivery, it is unsurpassed, if equalled, by any effort of 
this or any other preacher of modern tieies. With less 
severe logic than Saurin, less philosophical speculation than 
Vinet, less exquisite finish of style than Eobert Hall, it had 
more of that mingled force, fire, and tenderness, which, more 



CONVENTION-WOBK. 181 

than all philosophy, and all mere beauty of sentiment and 
expression, move and sway the minds and passions of men. 
The fountains of the great deep of Christian feeling were 
broken up, and " the heart of his people moved as the 
trees of the wood are moved with the wind." Dr. Williams 
of Baltimore, in a reminiscence of this sermon, sa^ys, — 

"After the preaching of that sermon I saw an ultra man from the 
North go up to Dr. Fuller, throw his arms around him, and say, 
' Brother Fuller, I love you.' As they stood there, weeping, and 
embracing each other, it was as if Jesus had come in and said, ' Peace, 
be still.' " 

The next and last meeting of the Triennial Convention 
was at Philadelphia, in 1844. Mr. Warren Merrill of Cam- 
bridge, Mass., writes of this sermon, — 

" Dr. Fuller preached on that occasion. It produced a profound 
impression on my mind. I class it among the few great sermons that 
I have listened to during my life." 

Dr. Williams of Baltimore, who was present at this meet- 
ing, says,— 

" Dr. Fuller preached on Sunday morning. I stopped at the same 
house with a distinguished minister from the North. He went to 
hear the doctor. We were all anxious to hear his criticism. When 
asked, he replied, ' The man is contagious. In a few moments after 
he commenced preaching, I was one with him in his sympathy with 
Jesus. I was disarmed as a critic, and have nothing to say, except 
that his power consists in his vivid conception of the truth he 
utters.' " 

In the subsequent meetings of the Southern Baptist Con- 
vention, it was generally understood that Dr. Fuller was to 
occupy on Sunday morning the pulpit of the church with 
which the body met. There were many able and devoted men 
present equal to any occasion ; but they, as well as the com- 
munity, were anxious to hear Richard Fuller. It was not 
unusual in this wa} T for him to preach in the evening as well 
as in the morning of the great clay of the feast. 



182 LIFE OF BICHABD FULLER. 

Dr. Crawford, writing of the meeting at Memphis, Tenn., 
in 1867, says, — 

" A distinguished minister who has known him for many years, and 
has often heard him, at Memphis declined an invitation to the coun- 
try, saying, ' I should like very much to go ; but I must stay to hear 
Fuller preach once more.' Another minister, of Northern extraction, 
from Missouri, declined a similar invitation in almost the same words ; 
adding, ' I came from Missouri here just to hear Dr. Fuller preach.' 
In his case, however, it was the reputation of the preacher that at- 
tracted; for he had never heard him." 

The sermon on this occasion was from Pilate's question to 
the Jews, u What shall I do, then, with Jesus, which is 
called Christ? " Dr. Brantly of Baltimore, who was present, 
says that the sermon, about three-fourths of it, was hardly 
up to the average efforts of the preacher, but that the last 
portion was of surpassing power. After the preparation of 
the minds and hearts of his audience by the preliminary dis- 
cussion, it was brought home to the people by a personal ap- 
peal, which was wonderful in its delivery and effect. Leaning 
over the pulpit after an impressive pause, the preacher turned 
the question of Pilate into a matter of present, personal ex- 
perience with his hearers. " Not," said he, " so much now, 
what shall I do with him ? but what shall a poor, dying, lost 
sinner like myself do without him ? ' ' The stillness of deep 
emotion that fell on the vast concourse was broken by the 
preacher quietly saying, " Sing something ; " when, as by a 
spontaneous outburst, mingled with tears and sobs, came 
the grand hymn, — 

" All hail the power of Jesus' name! " 

It was the skirmishing of a great captain in the battle, in 
the first part of the fight, followed by one of those decisive 
movements later in the day which win the victory with a 
clap of thunder. 

Rev. Dr. Curry of Richmond relates in his own impressive 



CONVENTION-WORK. 183 

way an incident connected with a mass meeting held on this 
occasion. It was a short time after the war ; and Dr. Fuller, 
who was speaking, had dwelt on the peculiar trials and suffer- 
ings of Christians at the South. With graphic power he 
pictured the march of Gen. Sherman through Georgia and 
Carolina. Gen. Sherman himself had told him (Dr. Fuller) 
how all the strictness of military discipline could hardly re- 
strain the soldiers from the most violent demonstrations, as 
they regarded South Carolina especially as the promised land 
for reprisal and retribution. Right in their path, as they 
crossed the Savannah on their way to Columbia, lay the farm 
of a well-known aged deacon of the Baptist church at Robert- 
ville : it was left a smouldering ruin. The numerous friends 
of the old man visited him in his desolation, and tried in 
every way to comfort him. He had again and again com- 
forted others in distress, and they reminded him in loud and 
earnest tones (for he was old and very deaf) of those sources 
of consolation to which he had often directed them in similar 
circumstances. " But," said the old man, with a slight out- 
cropping of the old nature, "I don't remember ever sup- 
posing a case like this ; and I am tempted to think Provi- 
dence went a little too far this time. ,, 

As Dr. Fuller said this, he leaned over, and repeated it 
loudly in the ears of Dr. Poindexter, who was very deaf, and 
who was sitting near him. " It was the most graphic, touch- 
ing, humorous picture that I ever witnessed in my life," said 
Dr. Curry. " The vast audience was at one moment filled 
with emotion, and the next shaken with irresistible laughter." 
The deaf old man, sitting, like Job, in the ashes of his 
mighty grief, and suffering a momentary eclipse of his faith, 
was a striking illustration of the extremity to which good 
men are sometimes brought in the blinding storm of some 
sudden, overwhelming sorrow. 

At Macon, Ga., in 1869, Dr. Fuller's subject in the morn- 
ing was the nature and strength of Simeon's faith: "Lord, 



184 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, according to 
thy word ; for mine eyes have seen thy salvation ' ' (Luke 
ii. 29, 30). Before the sermon the preacher had indulged in 
a little pleasant passage-at-arms with the choir, remarking, 
with deference to them, that he would not give one of the 
old-fashioned tunes their grandmothers used to sing for piles 
of the music they had up in the gallery, and begging as a 
special favor for one of those simple melodies in which all 
could unite. It touched plainly a cord of sjmrpathy in the 
congregation, made up largely of people from the surround- 
ing country, in whose judgment choirs are, if not downright 
inventions of the Evil One, yet at best very doubtful arrange- 
ments. The singing was general and hearty, and the sermon 
that followed an able and touching exposition of the trials 
and triumphs of faith. A lawyer who was in the audience, 
and who, at the beginning of the service, showed but little 
reverence or attention, was held more and more by the 
preacher, until, at the conclusion, with a sigh of relief, and 
tears in his eyes, he said aloud, in momentary forgetfulness 
of the place, " What a grand old man ! " 

At the meeting in Raleigh, N.C., in 1872, Dr. Fuller 
preached from Heb. i. 9 : "Thou hast loved righteousness, 
and hated iniquity : therefore God, even thy God, hath 
anointed thee with the oil of gladness above tlry fellows." 
The sermon and its impression is thus described by a corre- 
spondent of ' 4 The Herald : " — 

"Dr. Fuller made one of his happiest efforts, producing a most 
profound impression on the immense congregation. Tears flowed 
freely all over the house. When, at the close of the sermon, the 

choir struck up, 

* All hail the power of Jesus' name ! ' 

to the tune of Old Coronation, and the congregation joined in with a 
will, it rang out as a shout of victory, and produced an impression 
such as we have rarely witnessed." 

Tears and joy mingling in one tide of religious feeling, 



CONVENTION-WORK. 185 

as at the laying of the foundation of the second temple, 
M the people could not discern the noise of the shout of joy 
from the noise of the weeping of the people." 

But beside these noble discourses, by which leading minds 
in all parts of the land were quickened and refreshed, there 
was other and equally important work to be done ; and here 
Dr. Fuller rendered effective service. It was alwa3*s con- 
sidered a matter of importance to secure his advocacy of one 
or more of the special orders of the day. And the value 
and effect of these addresses were not due so much to their 
fulness and elaboration as to the tact, wisdom, and manner 
of the speaker. It is said that Whitefield could pronounce 
the monos}ilable O in such a way as to move an audience 
instantly to tears. John A. Stuart, a former gifted editor 
of the famous " Charleston (S.C.) Mercury," used to say 
that he (Stuart) could make people laugh, but that Richard 
Fuller could make them both laugh and ciy. Some little 
incident he could tell in such a manner as to make it a lever 
of power in moving the whole assembly. 

The following incident was published in ' ' The Louisville 
Courier" of May, 1866. It was the first meeting after the 
war. 

" Dr. Fuller said that he was afraid to trust his feelings to speak to 
his brethren. His heart was like water. Thank God ! all wars are 
now over, all embargoes and restrictions broken down, and our 
hearts again beat close one to another. You do not know what we 
in Maryland and Kentucky have suffered for you, — what an anguish 
of spirit, whilst deprived of your sweet fraternal counsel. There was 
one member of the convention, Dr. Mell, the president, whom he had 
long yearned to meet. In the midst of the strife he received a letter 
from Dr. Mell, inquiring for his son, who was a soldier in the Confed- 
erate army. He made the inquiries, and discovered that the dear 
young brother Mell had been wounded and captured at Crampton's 
Gap, Ya., and afterward died. He secured his effects, — watch, 
Bible, memorandum-book, — and now had the happiness, the happi- 
ness mixed with pain, of transferring them to the bereaved father. 

"We dare not attempt to report either the manner or matter of 



186 LIFE OF RICH ABB FULLER. 

Dr. Fuller's brief address. Did we, it would be our duty to record 
more tears than smiles ; for every eye was suffused, and every heart 
throbbing with sympathy." 

At the meeting of the convention in Macon, Ga., in May, 
1869, Dr. Fuller followed Dr. Bo} T ce in behalf of the Southern 
Baptist Theological Seminary. Every thing — the subject- 
matter under discussion, the mood of both speaker and 
audience — was favorable for a fine impression. Dr. Fuller 
once remarked of the elder Basil Manly, that when his 
digestion was good, and the wind to the north-west, he was 
as effective a preacher as he ever heard in his life. Of 
course he did not undervalue other and more essential con- 
ditions ; but he knew the influence of those little things 
which often decide the battle. We affirm nothing as to the 
direction of the wind that morning at Macon, or the diges- 
tion of the speaker ; but, benigno numine, all things were 
favorable, — the theme, an educated ministry, and the noble 
sacrifices of the Greenville professors, the mention of which 
the year before at Baltimore had stirred the whole conven- 
tion with sympathy. We give an outline of this address 
from " The Herald " of May 20, 1869 : — 

"Dr. Fuller's own heart would have prompted him to speak, even 
if he had not been invited to do so ; but his friend Boyce reminded 
him of what Charles II. said of Sherlock: 'He is not a fair man, 
sir: he never leaves any thing for anybody else to say.' And as 
for Boyce' s heart, it is so big that the Lord had to make that great, 
big body to put it in. If there be any thing in the conceit that mon- 
uments should be erected at the sources of rivers, how much more 
appropriate to do so at the fountain of rivers of spiritual knowledge ! 
He would erect a monument at Greenville. If it were a question 
whether we should have education, or the simple truths of the 
gospel, he would unhesitatingly say, ' Away with education, and give 
him the man who breaks hearts, even though he break grammar ! ' 
It is true of many a highly-educated man, that, if in bis sermon he 
should happen to touch on religion, he would have touched on every 
thing under the sun. But surely ignorance is not necessary to en- 
able a man to preach the saving truths of the gospel. He loved the 



CONVENTION- WORK. 187 

seminary, because they there teach the students to preach Jesus. 
The Bible is written in other languages; and we Baptists should see 
to it that we have men able to interpret them, and to state and 
defend our peculiar views. The preacher stands in a peculiar rela- 
tion to the people. The fewer times you call on doctors or lawyers, 
the better; but the pastor's relations are more intimate. He has to 
do with the soul. How important that these mighty interests should 
not be committed to ignoramuses ! The preacher must rule by love. 
Learning and intellect are already a power in the land, and they 
are becoming more so every day. Men are turning searching glances 
into the old standards of our faith; and we need men thoroughly fur- 
nished, that they may be able to meet them. The people will have 
preachers of some kind: how important that we give them educated 
men ! He then ably argued the importance of a general theological 
seminary for the denomination in the South. The theological de- 
partments of oar colleges are necessarily very incomplete, and we 
cannot depend upon the State ; for, unfortunately, whenever the State 
has the disbursement of educational funds, Baptists are quietly ig- 
nored. Nor will it do to leave our young men to get their theology 
after they go into their work. The young lawyer or doctor hangs out 
his shingle, and is frequently left for years with no calls to interrupt 
the progress of his studies ; but the preacher enters at once upon his 
life-long work, and has but little time for study. 

" We must provide the means of sending our young preachers to the 
seminary; for they are generally poor themselves, have poor parents, 
and have no prospectively lucrative profession upon which they can 
borrow money. Our young men had nobly sacrificed their time, 
their money, and their lives, for the ' lost cause.' Give our young 
preachers an opportunity to stand up boldly for a cause that shall 
never be lost. He could not speak in their presence, as he could 
wish, of the professors at Greenville; but this he would say: When 
either one of them might have commanded elsewhere a salary of 
from five to ten thousand dollars, they had stood at their posts, and 
toiled on amid poverty and actual want. They were heroic men, 
and deserved all honor at our hands. The dead speak to us to-day 
in behalf of this noble cause. The late Dr. Basil Manly — of whom 
he could not trust himself to speak — had said that he 'had rather 
have borne some part in establishing this seminary than to have 
been President of the United States.' Manly speaks to us to-day. 
Dr. Fuller closed with an eloquent and touching appeal, which pro- 
duced a profound impression. The above is a very imperfect sketch 
of this speech, which was universally regarded as one of the finest 
efforts ever made by the distinguished orator." 



188 LIFE OF RICH ABB FULLER. 

Such was this remarkable address. In that part of it 
where the speaker was urging the need of an educated min- 
istry to meet the learned scepticism of the age, he referred 
to the elaborate attack of Strauss on the gospel, and the 
more sentimental but insidious speculations of Renan, and 
asked how were these to be met but b} 7 some acquaintance 
with the methods and weapons of the enem} T . The closing 
allusion to Basil Manly — clarum et venerabile nomen — 
was full of tenderness and power. It was very much the 
sentiment and language in a letter written about this time 
to "The Herald:" "O ever-loving, lovely, and beloved 
Manly, our precious friend, counsellor, brother, father ! we 
shall see thee no more until we embrace in heaven." As 
the speaker sat down amid the mingled tears and scarcely 
suppressed murmurs of approbation, a stranger turned to one 
sitting by his side, and, with a sigh of relief from strong 
emotion, said, "That is the best speech I ever heard from 
Richard Fuller." The subsequent pledges to the seminary- 
fund showed its practical value and effectiveness. 

Towards the close of this session a very earnest debate 
took place as to the relation of the convention to the colored 
people. Dr. Poindexter and Dr. Fuller were the principal 
debaters. Few men were better known and loved in the con- 
vention, and among the Baptists of the South, than A. M. 
Poindexter. He was one of God's noblemen, — a man of 
rather plain address, but of a high order of mental endow- 
ment. With the keen logic of able consecutive reasoning 
he united the simplicity of a child and the tenderness of a 
woman. As a debater on any of the great questions of the 
day, he was the peer of Jeter, Fuller, or any other leader in 
the convention. His enthusiasm, when fairly aroused, swept 
him on, and every thing with him, like the mountain-torrent 
when the floods are high. On this occasion Poindexter had 
warmed up to the subject, and in a most impassioned man- 
ner was walking from one side of the platform to the other 



CONVENTION-WORK. 189 

like a chafed lion. Now he would appeal to Dr. Fuller, who 
had differed from him, with an overwhelming argumentum 
ad hominem; then, turning, he would stride to the other 
end, addressing the audience. After one of these ap- 
proaches to Dr. Fuller, as the orator turned and marched in 
the opposite direction, Dr. Fuller quickly took his hat, and 
slipped through the door in the rear. What was the sur- 
prise of his antagonist, on turning, and this time with the 
climax of his argument, to confront the doctor, to find that 
he had vanished in some mysterious manner ! The audi- 
ence took in the situation at a glance ; for Dr. Fuller had 
given a significant shake of the head as he moved off, as if 
to say he was afraid of the next charge. A murmur of sup- 
pressed merriment ran through the house. 

At the convention that met at Raleigh, N.C., in 1872, Dr. 
Fuller made one of the addresses on domestic missions. 
Dr. T. G-. Jones had insisted on the apostolic method of 
securing good salient points in the great centres, — the large 
cities ; and his appeal had stirred the hearts of the people. 
Dr. Fuller, on rising, found the interest of his audience 
alread}' aroused by the previous address ; so that he had no 
outworks of indifference to carry. 

"After some pleasantry" (says " The Herald" of May 16, 1872), 
"he passed to speak very tenderly of Crawford, the friend of his 
youth ; of Taylor, the dear brother whom he always had to pray for 
him when he had to preach at these meetings ; of Poindexter, who 
had stood by him in those days that tried men's souls. . He vividly 
sketched the desolations of the South, especially of dear little South 
Carolina, the most oppressed State on the globe. The home-work 
has the highest claims upon us. He urged the work among the col- 
ored people. Jesus was a home missionary. Home missions are 
economical. The missionaries have not to learn a new language. 
They are not at the expense of going to their fields. The South is 
our own country, and the people our own people. As he stood yes- 
terday by the side of his old friend Gen. Hampton, and saw the gar- 
lands cast upon the graves of the soldiers, his heart was deeply 
touched. 



190 LIFE OF BIG HARD FULLER. 

"Will we not send the gospel to their widows and orphans ? He 
closed with an eloquent appeal for present and liberal help for 
these." 

But a more thrilling episode occurred, either in this ad- 
dress, or in another delivered about the same time. The 
convention had just heard of the death of the loved and 
honored Poindexter. Few men were better known and more 
loved in the convention than he. For years the nature of his 
work as secretary or agent of some one of the societies had 
brought him into intimate relations with members of the 
convention. As a preacher, while, to some extent, awkward 
in manner, and monotonous in tone, there was a clearness of 
method, a force of reasoning, and an impassioned momentum 
of delivery, which soon swept out of sight all minor imper- 
fections. As a debater, he had powers that would have com- 
manded respect in any assembly — legal, political, or eccle- 
siastical — in the land. Crowning all was a sterling integrity 
and a lofty courage of soul, tempered by the meekness and 
gentleness of Christ. 

When the news came of the death of such a man, it was 
felt by all as a great loss to the denomination. No one ap- 
preciated this more than Dr. Fuller. With the feeling of a 
kindred spirit, he had known and honored the genius, the 
fiery eloquence, of Poindexter. He had thrilled and melt- 
ed with him in sympathetic ardor at the foot of the cross. 
The following apostrophe, therefore, — though, as the report- 
er saj's, a bold conception, — was stamped, by the feeling 
of the hour and the enthusiasm of the speaker, with true 
sublimity : — 

"The convention" (says the reporter) "had just heard of the 
death of Dr. A. M. Poindexter, and Dr. Fuller's bold and touching 
allusion was like an electric shock. No one but Dr. Fuller could 
have said it, and said it as he said it. 

" ' I love the foreign-mission work; and, whenever I think of what 
is being done by the Baptists of the South, I stand erect, and glorify 



CONVENTION- WOEK. 191 

God. I almost think sometimes that I would not exchange places 
with an angel in heaven: if I did, it would not be with Gabriel, but 
rather with that angel whom John saw flying in the midst of heaven, 
carrying the everlasting gospel "to every nation and kindred and 
tongue and people, saying with a loud voice, Fear God, and give 
glory to him." Fly faster, O angel! on thy mission; and, if thou 
canst not quicken thy flight, go back and give thy message to Poin- 
dexter's spirit. He knows a love you can never know: he is now 
singing a song you can never learn, — the song of a redeemed soul 
bought by the precious blood of Christ. Give him thy message, and 
let his spirit bear it to the uttermost part of the earth.' " 

O angel, fly fast ! 

The gleam of thy wing in the heavenly train 
The shepherds beheld that night on the plain 
Of Bethlehem, where, 'neath the feathery palm, 
They caught the first note of the advent psalm. 
Now wider thy flight o'er the land and the sea, 
And louder the heavenly minstrelsy; 
And a banner of light to a dying world 
Is the sight of that glorious wing unfurled. 

O angel, fly fast! 

It may be that one, who, as he was dying, 

Cried, " Who'll preach Jesus ? " at thy side is now flying 

More swiftly than Gabriel cleaving the air 

When he touched the rapt seer on the plain of Shinar. 

From the land of the palm and the wild Galilee 

Let the sweep of thy wing fan the isles of the sea: 

Thy mission once ended, then fold thy bright wing; 

For the ransomed shall stand by the throne of the King. 



192 LIFE OF BICHABD FULLER. 



CHAPTER XXII. 



GENERAL CHRISTIAN WORK. 



"I have loved to hear my Lord spoken of; and, wherever I have seen the print of 
his shoe in the earth, there I have coveted to set my foot too." 

IT is a common metaphor, but, like most figures of speech, 
an exaggeration, to speak, in illustration of character, 
of the depth of narrow channels and the shallowness of 
wider surfaces. This may be true neither as to the fact nor 
as to the thing signified. The narrow channels are often the 
shallowest ; while the ocean combines depth and fulness with 
vastness of expanse. The noblest natures are broad and 
generous in their sympathies, while marked by the profound- 
est convictions. 

Richard Fuller was warmly attached to his own denomina- 
tion. Coming once to the conclusion that he had found in 
the Baptist churches the nearest approach to the simple faith 
and scriptural ordinances of the New Testament, he was the 
firm advocate of these principles to the end. At the same 
time, his instinct for truth, and love for his Saviour, made 
him quick to detect their presence everywhere ; and, wherever 
he saw their footprints, he was willing to follow : hence his 
intimacy with men like Bishop Elliott, Chief Justice Chase, 
and James W. Alexander, — men whose views of church 
polhVv differed so widely from his own ; hence, outside of 
religious associations, his friendly relations with men like 
Calhoun, Clay, and Edward Everett. 

In addition, therefore, to his work in his own denomina- 



GENERAL CHRISTIAN WORK. 193 

tion, was the collateral service he rendered for the cause of 
humanity and truth everywhere. No one was more quick to 
detect, and sure to despise, every false, new-fangled scheme 
of philanthropy. But, his judgment once convinced as to the 
soundness of any claim, he was at once and always its enthu- 
siastic advocate ; and this will be best shown hj his relation 
to some of the principal benevolent institutions outside of 
the churches, — organizations which Dean Alford explains to 
be the banks of the New Testament, where we are advised by 
our Lord to put out our mone}' to usuiy ; to invest our means 
and influence in the way of development and usefulness. 

One of these institutions is the American Colonization 
Societ3 r . The ultimate destiny of the colored people in this 
country is a problem as to which the best and wisest are in 
doubt. In the march of events, it was certain from the 
beginning that slavery had a limited existence in this coun- 
try. But speculation as to the nature and histoiy of the 
institution was one thing, and the wants of four or five mil- 
lions of human beings was another matter, and a matter of 
practical interest to ever} r Christian and philanthropist in the 
land. Taking the facts of the case as to the condition of the 
freedmen among the colored people, the societ}- addressed 
itself to the work, and provided in the colonization scheme 
the only practical relief and remedy that the question seemed 
to admit of. 

One of the most important meetings of this society was 
that of January, 1851, held in Washington, D.C., in the 
First Presbyterian Church. Hemy Cla} r was president. Mr. 
Fillmore, President of the United States, and other distin- 
guished men, were on the platform. 

The opening address was b} T Mr. Claj-. Like every thing 
from the great statesman, it was graceful and forcible. His 
argument aimed at a solution of the slavey problem. He 
believed, as most thinkers in the country then believed, in the 
gradual extinction of slavery. He suggested various methods 



194 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

b} T which this could be effected, — by State laws, by natural 
causes, or by the sword. "As to the sword," he said, " no- 
bod}', I trust, would think of the employment of that to put 
an end to slavery. As to law, I believe that no safe mode of 
gradual emancipation by law can terminate in any one of the 
States the existence of slaver} T much, if any, sooner than it 
will be terminated by the operation of natural causes." This 
he then explains to be the increase of population to such an 
extent as would make slave labor unprofitable, and free labor 
cheaper everywhere. Mr. Clay was always the orator and 
statesman ; but in this matter he was no prophet. 

Dr. Fuller followed in an address which attracted no little 
attention in all parts of the country. He began with a grace- 
ful compliment to the distinguished presiding officer, and also 
to President Fillmore. He then passed in meclias res to 
the substance of his argument. The first part was to show 
the relation of the society to the freedmen among the colored 
people. He then explained its possible mission and advan- 
tage to the slave population. 

Here he deprecated two things, — the impatience of the 
North, and the over-sensitiveness of the South. He insisted 
that the question was fast becoming more a matter of reli- 
gious feeling than of political compromise, and that this was 
the growing peril of the hour. After an appeal to the two 
sections, marked by great fairness of judgment, he submitted 
a proposition looking to a possible solution of the problem : — 

" And now, looking upon this subject in a religious light, permit 
me to say that there are some things upon which our brethren at the 
North ought seriously to ponder. In the first place, they ought to 
reflect that we of the South are not responsible for the introduction 
of Africans into this country : they were introduced here in spite of 
the protests of many of the colonists. In the next place, they ought 
to reflect that the African has been vastly improved by his transpor- 
tation to these shores. The African here is a superior animal to the 
African on his native continent. In point of comfort (I speak from per- 
sonalobservation when I say this), with a kind master he is far better 



GENERAL CHRISTIAN WORK. 195 

cared for, more comfortable, more happy, than most of the peasantry 
of'Europe. It was only the other morning that I had to go ont some 
time before the rising of the sun to start from Baltimore to Washing- 
ton. I left my servants in comfortable beds, without the slightest or 
remotest idea of rising before the sun, and then t© dress as warmly 
as I dress, and eat the same food that I eat. Near the railroad-track 
I met an Irishman; and, though the morning was bitter, the poor 
fellow, thinly clad, stood shivering in the cold. Upon inquiry, I 
found that he regarded himself as exceedingly fortunate in having 
secured the place which he held on the road. He told me he was 
able to furnish his family with fuel and with food, and to pay his 
monthly rent regularly: to do this, he had to rise every morning 
about three o'clock (winter and summer), and labor until dark, Sun- 
days not excepted. An overcoat was a luxury of which he never 
dreamed. Now, looking to what is merely physical, what friend of the 
slave would wish him to change places with that laborer ? But it is 
the religious blessings which the African has enjoyed in this country 
which are his greatest advantage. And here let me tell a singular and 
most important fact. In all our missionary stations, there are at this 
day all together fifty-six thousand converts from heathenism. In the 
Methodist, Presbyterian, and Baptist churches at the South there are 
two hundred and fifty-six thousand professed African believers in 
Jesus Christ. If these Africans had not come to this country, prob- 
ably not one of them would ever have heard the gospel. By being 
brought here, there are now five times as many members of those 
churches as are to be found in all the missionary churches put 
together. 

" I think the North ought to ponder these questions. 

" But there are certain concessions which we of the South ought 
also to be prepared to make as honest men. We ought candidly to 
admit, — as every Southern statesman who has travelled at the North, 
I think, will confess, — that, while slavery enriches the individual, it 
impoverishes the State, fostering indolence and luxury, which have 
always been the bane of governments. I think I may well appeal to 
every Christian, whether, when God says, "Search the scriptures," 
the human mind ought to be shut out from reading the scriptures ; 
whether, when Jesus Christ says, "What, therefore, G-od hath joined 
together, let not man put asunder," husbands and wives ought to be 
separated ; whether labor ought to be received without compensation. 

" In a conversation with the late Mr. Calhoun, he said to me that 
he thought we did pay fair wages for the labor of our slaves. I do 
not go into the calculation; I do not go into the dollars and cents: it 



196 LIFE OF BICIIABD FULLER, 

is the principle for which I am contending. Above all, to a generous 
mind, perfect dependence is ever an irresistible plea for protection. 

" Hence we will die for a woman. She is dependent upon us, and 
she has a claim which no brave and generous man can resist. I know 
no men more generous than our Southern planters. They are quick 
of resentment, and very justly indignant at the gross assaults of the 
abolitionists ; but, left to their own free and generous impulses, they 
are the very men to admire and to imitate Antoninus and other 
Roman emperors who became guardians of the slaves, and extended 
over them a paternal government. 

" But I will not dwell on these concessions which the South ought 
to make. There is one concession which I made some four years ago, 
when writing to Dr. Wayland from South Carolina, and to which I 
have heard scarcely a single objection. 

" It is, that slavery is not a good thing, and a thing to be perpetu- 
ated. I believe there are few at the South who are not willing to 
admit that. And, if that be admitted, I ask, May not this great coun- 
try come to understand itself ? Would it not be oil upon the surface 
of the troubled waters, and a rainbow in our troubled sky ? Might 
we not hope that at length an equilibrium would be restored in our 
moral atmosphere, if these concessions were made ? A common plat- 
form, and a middle ground of love and brotherly feeling, might be 
found, upon which all good men might stand, and, in a spirit of love 
and generous philanthropy, consult as to the duty of the race towards 
this other race, which, in the providence of God, is placed in our 
power. 

"We think that the time has come — as this resolution says, and as 
your president has most eloquently said — when we ought not in vain 
to invoke the attention of this government and the interposition of 
Congress in behalf of this great enterprise. It seems to me there 
can be no sort of doubt that Congress possesses the power to make 
appropriations for this object. And shall millions be spent about a 
plot of a few square miles, while truth and mercy and justice and 
philanthropy and benevolence apply in vain ? Congress, I suppose, 
has hitherto been unwilling to commit this nation to a cause which 
was regarded as an experiment, and by many as a Utopian experi- 
ment. But this is no longer an experiment. There stands Liberia ; 
and, if so much has been done by individual benevolence, what can- 
not be achieved if the wisdom and power and resources of this great 
republic were devoted to this great object. 

" If Congress were willing to do what I humbly think Congress 



GENERAL CHRISTIAN WORK. 197 

ought to do, there are multitudes, like "myself, willing to impoverish 
themselves, if they can only see that they can do any thing for the 
minds and the souls of those beings committed to their charge. And 
I say, if these appropriations are due to such citizens, we have a right 
to demand them. Year after year, thousands and tens of thousands 
are voted in yonder halls to encourage improvements in the arts and 
sciences, — for inventions, not only to benefit, but to destroy, our race. 
Every project to explode gunpowder, and hurl the missiles of death, 
seeks and finds favor. Is it not time that some portion of the resources 
of this government should be applied to the greatest of all improve- 
ments, — the improvement of the human race ? It is due to Africa. 
God calls upon us to make some atonement for wrongs which have 
been done by our forefathers to that continent. I say there are mul- 
titudes this day who are willing to impoverish themselves and their 
children, if they can see how they can benefit these human beings ; 
and Congress ought to meet such cases promptly. Let us improve 
man : that is the highest aim. 

"I am no statesman, no politician; I am a humble minister of 
God ; and what I am now about to say will, perhaps, seem like insani- 
ty to some people: but, if it be insanity, it has come upon me as 
insanity never came upon man, — by the painful, prayerful, calm, pro- 
tracted contemplation of a great subject. Let not what I say, then, 
be scouted : let it be weighed and pondered calmly. I am supposing 
now that there are many at the South who are anxious to do some- 
thing for the African, but see not what they can do ; and I am sup- 
posing that the multitude at the North feel, as I know they feel, a 
willingness to make sacrifices for this purpose; but they see how 
valueless are harangues and books and pictures and prints, because 
the destiny of the African is in the hands of his master. Supposing 
this state of things to exist (and I believe it exists to an extent of 
which few have any conception), cannot the legislation of this Union 
be wisely adjusted so as to meet such an emergency? I am not given 
to circumlocution when I have any thing to say. What I wish to say 
is this: Does not a sacred duty to Africa, and the salvation of this 
country, truth, love, justice, require that Congress should be ready 
to interpose, not merely to deport, but to redeem, to purchase, the 
slaves of those who are willing to engage in an arduous, tedious, but 
most sublime undertaking ? 'Why,' says the abolitionist, 'we never 
will consent to that in the world : it is acknowledging the right of the 
master.' But is that man a friend to the African ? The right exists, 
the power exists; no earthly authority can destroy it: and is not the 



198 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLEB. 

elevation of a human being better than the maintenance of these 
absurd abstractions ? I put out of view the fact that we of the South 
obtained a great part of these slaves from the North, who imported 
them into our Southern harbors. I wish to mention a very singular 
fact ; and, if Dr. Wa}dand were here, I have no doubt he would not 
object to my mentioning it. At the time he was writing letters to 
me against slavery, and I putting it on the true ground on which it 
stood, he was situated in Providence, E.I., and I in Beaufort, S.G. 
Some of my ancestors recollected the time, when, out of Providence, 
the slave-ships brought slaves into Beaufort, S.C. ; and my forefathers 
bought them from the very people who built up Providence. But I 
put out of view that fact; and I say to those abolitionists, 'Admit, 
for argument's sake, a calumny, which I deny and detest, that we are 
robbers. Suppose your child is in the hands of a robber: will you 
redeem that child, and set him free ? or will you say it would be 
admitting the right of the robber, and I will not redeem him ? ' 
Such a man is not the friend of the slave. 

" I feel that I owe a sort of apology for the length to which I have 
been carried, unconsciously to myself, but, I fear, not without the very 
distinct consciousness of this assembly. Mr. President, you have 
well touched upon the commerce and great resources of Africa. You 
have said all that can be said, and better than we can say it, in rela- 
tion to that subject. You have spoken, too, of the slave-trade, which 
can be more effectually suppressed by colonization than by all the 
combined fleets of England, France, and the United States. You 
mentioned, too, the line of steamers to Africa. The days of miracles 
are passed : but God can still open the sea to achieve his purposes ; 
and I trust that he is saying to you as he said to Moses, ' Stretch out 
thy hand, and the sea shall be opened.' 

"If I could only gain the attention of my friends here to-night, 
and especially if I could fix your mind, sir, and the minds of others 
here before me, to the subject which I have been presenting, I should 
thank God, and take courage. I know that what I have proposed 
will seem to many, at first, as the dream of a visionary. In the 
vocabulary of this world, wisdom and folly too often mean, not the 
compliance of our views with truth or falsehood, but their compli- 
ance with public opinion : hence the first insurrection of the human 
mind against the usurpations of society is always regarded as a sort of 
insanity. People say, ' He is a strange man uttering strange things ; ' 
but, if the strange things uttered by that strange man be true things, 
they will not be lost. No testimony, however feeble, in favor of 
great principles, can ever be lost : it will awaken an echo somewhere. 



GENERAL CHRISTIAN WORK. 199 

I speak with great humility, but with perfect confidence, when I say, 
that what I have proposed to-night, with perhaps only a few sympa- 
thizing with me, will one day be regarded, not as the chimera of an 
enthusiast, but as the language of truth and soberness. And, if it 
demands time and money, what are time and money to this nation, 
when undertaking such a great and sublime work ? The mere inter- 
est on the national debt of England for ten years would buy every 
slave in this country. And as to the time, chronic evils always 
demand chronic remedies. Look at God in the creation, in the 
deliverance of his people from Egypt, in the redemption. God tells 
men that nothing great can be done without patience and time. It 
is only little, weak, and contracted minds who hope to do any great 
thing in a hurry. 

" Whatever we do, Mr. President and members of the Colonization 
Society, let us do it with faith, — faith in God, faith in ourselves, 
faith in our great cause. Nothing contributes so much, no element 
in human conduct contributes half so much, to success, as the confi- 
dence of succeeding. By faith Leonidas fought and fell at Ther- 
mopylae, and his noble devotion rendered Greece invincible. By 
faith Columbus saw an unknown land, and resolved to reach it. It 
was faith that sustained him as he travelled from court to court, 
seeking sympathy and aid. Alexander wept for another world to 
conquer. Columbus revealed that other world, and he resolved to 
conquer it ; and when, at midnight upon the tempestuous ocean, his 
whole crew and all the officers demanded of him the abandonment 
of the voyage, so utterly hopeless were they, what but an unextin- 
guishable faith cheered him, and assured him that in three days his 
toil should be crowned with success ? What would have become of 
this nation if faith had not sustained our forefathers in the struggles 
of the Bevolution ? Faith must ever be the strength and consolation 
of all who will do great things. In all great enterprises we may say 
with perfect truth, that a great deal depends upon faith. "Blessed is 
he that hath not seen, and yet believeth." 

"As patriots, ought one of you, my hearers, to leave this house 
without a deep interest in this matter ? But, my dear fellow-citizens, 
God knows I love you, and I love this dear country, and I love this 
Union, from the bottom of my heart. If such a scheme as I have 
suggested could be adopted, if, instead of strife and sectional animosi- 
ty, the members of this Union could all engage in such an enterprise, 
not only would all the selectest blessings of God descend upon this 
nation, but the very co-operation would bind us together by bonds 
most delightful and most indissoluble. And how pleasant a sight, 



200 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

instead of sectional strife and bickering and animosity, to see the 
members from the different portions of this Union consenting to make 
generous sacrifices, and consulting together as to the best means of 
making some reparation to Africa for the injury which has been done 
her ! Across the very highway which was once vexed and crossed by 
the keel of the slave-ship, our stars and stripes would be returning 
to injured Africa her long-lost children, and returning them, not 
imbruted as they came, but, by the blessing of God overruling the 
avarice of man, civilized, elevated, converted, and prepared to regen- 
erate that degraded continent. 

"Sir, such a scheme, and our country is safe. Not esto per- 
petua ('it may be perpetual'), but erit perpetua ('it shall be per- 
petual '), would then be written upon that column which is rearing 
itself upon yonder common. But, if something practical and effect- 
ual cannot be done, vainly do we cry ' Peace, peace ! ' when there 
is no peace. 

" Born at the South, educated at the North, intimately acquainted 
with the sentiments of the North and South as I am, in daily contact 
with Northern and Southern feeling, I utter my most solemn conviction 
to-night when I say (may God avert the prophecy!) that the elements 
of mischief, the ignes suppositi, the concealed fires of a volcano, are 
gathering under our feet. If something cannot be done, nothing will 
save this country from the agitation of the slavery question and from 
the civil — I put my finger to my lips ; I cannot go on ; I cannot look 
at it ; I cannot speak it ; but I see it, I see it, — that nothing will save 
this country from the agitation of the slavery question, and civil 
conflict. Your venerable head, Mr. President, — for your days, I 
fear, are almost numbered, and the place which you fill you will soon 
see no more (may God Almighty prepare for you a blessed place in 
heaven !) — your venerable head will soon be reposing in the tomb, and 
the shout and discord of a fratricidal war will not disturb your sleep. 
But some of us may be young enough to see that dismal hour. 

"I love my country with my whole heart. I can say with the 
Roman, 'Would that I had a hundred lives to give to my country! ' 
I love this Union with my whole heart. May God spread over it the 
banner of his protection! But, much as I love my country, I love 
man even more; and it is as the highest achievement of philan- 
thropy that colonization has my devoutest prayers for its success. 
In this light it has dignity, it has grandeur transcending the lan- 
guage of thought. Its end is the noblest which can be proposed by 
any human mind." 



GENERAL CHRISTIAN WORK. 201 

We have quoted the larger part of this address. It 
abounds with the characteristic excellences of the speaker, 
— sallies of wit, close reasoning, vivid description, all lighted 
up with flashes of imagination. It had, too, more of the 
prophetic element in its forecast of the future than the speech 
of the Kentucky statesman. Clay, Calhoun, and TTebster had 
gone before the shock came ; but the preacher lived to see 
the bursting of the storm, which, like a rapt seer, he here 
predicted. 

The address met with but little favor at the South. The 
fever of excitement was running so high, that extremists at 
once took exception to these concessions of a Southern man 
and slaveholder, and commented with some severity on his 
propositions. The project was not entirely new, as bills had 
been introduced into Congress before, looking to some such 
appropriation ; but Dr. Fuller was held to a stricter defence 
of the institution. 

So deep was the feeling on the subject, that, on a visit to 
Beaufort which Dr. Fuller made a short time afterwards, it 
was even suggested that his appearance in his old pulpit 
might not be a matter of pleasure to the people. But wiser 
counsels prevailed ; the excitement subsided ; and he was 
heard and welcomed as before. 

If the concessions pleaded for in this address had been 
made by the country, and the policy advocated adopted by 
the government, a way might have been opened over the sea 
for the exodus of the children of Ham, like that through the 
Red Sea for the children of Israel, and without those dread- 
ful thunders of Egypt which are still echoing through the 
land. 

Another catholic institution of the country is the American 
Tract Society. If not the angel of the Apocalypse, flying 
through the midst of heaven with the everlasting gospel, it 
follows close in the track of that angel. Next to the Bible 



202 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

Society and the ministry of the Word, it scatters over the 
earth the precious leaves that are "for the healing of the 
nations." It is said that Legli Richmond was converted from 
formalism by reading Wilberforce's treatise on "Practical 
Christianity," written to promote evangelical religion among 
the higher classes in Great Britain. Legh Richmond wrote 
"The Dairyman's Daughter," — a tract that has come like a 
messenger of God to multitudes in quickening the currents 
of religious thought and feeling. A society diffusing a litera- 
ture like this, in an age of great intellectual activity and 
general habits of reading, is an invaluable auxiliary to the 
Church, especially in its defence of the outposts of Christi- 
anity against an infidel or licentious press. 

Such an agency could not fail to find in Richard Fuller a 
warm and earnest advocate. We find him, accordingly, 
making one of the addresses at the anniversary in New 
York in 1860. His heart is aglow with the fire of Christian 
love. His mind grasps the full measure of the blessing of a 
sanctified press. 

" Resolved, That the national and catholic spirit of the American 
Tract Society, and its influence upon the literature of the land, ought 
to make it dear to every Christian and patriot. 

" It is Seneca who says that the sources of large rivers are sacred, 
and altars should be built there. If such reverence ought to be given 
to fountains from which fertilizing streams issue, how ought we to 
venerate those great institutions which enrich and bless the earth 
with heavenly truth and spiritual influences! 

" I have travelled from Baltimore to this city, simply that I might 
enjoy the pleasure and honor of being with you to-night. But you 
do not wish me, I am sure, to pronounce any eulogium on the Ameri- 
can Tract Society. The time has passed when that could be needed. 
There are, however, one or two traits in its character which ought to 
make it dearer and dearer to us every year. Upon these I would say 
something. 

"And, first, this society is national, — national, not sectional. It 
is more : it is one of the few grand conservators and bonds of union 



GENERAL CHRISTIAN WORK. 203 

which are left us. Once all our influential religious denominations 
were accustomed to have their respective anniversaries, when from 
every part of the land Christians came together, glowing with love 
for each other, and with a common loyalty to Jesus. And I need not 
say by what ties of love our national Union was thus compacted. 
This harmony of feeling and action has been forever destroyed in the 
two largest religious bodies; and, unless God interposes, it will soon 
be violently broken up in all our religious communions. And these 
deplorable disruptions have been for what? Utopian abstractions; 
since I venture to affirm, that, practically, there is little difference 
between good men on any of the questions which have produced these 
fatal mischiefs. Nor have these separations of those who once em- 
braced each other been caused by any alienation in the great masses 
of the denominations. They have been commenced and precipitated 
by the fanaticism of a few restless spirits ; by men who are conscien- 
tious, but whose consciences are unenlightened (and Lord Bacon has 
said, that, ' without science, there can be no con-science ' ) ; by men 
sincere, but who are the victims of an unchristian zeal (for, unless to 
our virtue we ' add knowledge,' it ceases to be virtue; and, if knowl- 
edge be added, temperance will follow: 'Add to your faith virtue, 
and to virtue knowledge, and to knowledge temperance ' ) ; by men 
who will still carry strife and dissension wherever they go, will still 
cause fresh divisions where all should be, and all, but for them, would 
be, fraternal kindness and affection. 

"I love and honor this society because it has stood nobly aloof 
from these unworthy bickerings and disputings ; because it has shut 
out from its bosom those baneful strifes which have been so perni- 
cious to the churches, and which threaten to be so disastrous to the 
nation. For my own part, when I draw within the circle of my 
contemplation all the blessings of our American Union, I want words 
in which to express my sense of the folly, infatuation, and guilt of 
disunion. I should be at a loss for a term by which to designate the 
man who wantonly seeks to involve us and our children in such a 
ruin. The man who at this day, amidst universal prosperity and 
happiness, can wish for such a catastrophe, — I should not know what 
to call him (whether idiot or madman or incendiary or traitor), but 
that the crisis which has produced such an enemy to our country has 
also furnished his name. /He is a politician; a man who lives by 
intrigue, to whom patriotism is a mockery, who has faith only in one 
single virtue, — unmitigated selfishness, — and who, to gratify an inor- 
dinate ambition or cupidity, seeks to bandage the eyes of the multi- 
tude, and lead them on to a precipice. I do not condemn a proper pref- 



204 LIFE OF BICHAED FULLER. 

erence for our own State : I go as far in this attachment as anybody. 
We have Mr. Webster's authority for the sentiment once ascribed to a 
worthy citizen of Boston. He was a man of expansive benevolence ; 
he wished well to the whole world; and, that the whole world might 
be happy and prosperous, he sincerely wished that the United States 
governed the whole world, that New England governed the United 
States, that Massachusetts governed New England, and that Boston 
governed Massachusetts. For himself he had no sort of ambition: 
he would be satisfied to govern the little town of Boston. I believe 
that was a good man, a sincerely benevolent man. I understand him 
perfectly. I smile at his candor. I may not sympathize with his 
aspirations : still I can respect and honor him. But he who cannot 
extend his love of country beyond his own State is not worthy to be 
an American citizen. And, if we deserve to be American citizens, 
this society will engage our warmest interest, because it is superior 
to all sectional feeling; because it recognizes no North, no South, no 
East, no West, but is, in its entire character, in all its objects, wholly 
American, embracing with the same tender solicitude every portion 
of the land. 

" He knows little of man who can make light of the religious senti- 
ment implanted in our nature. It is the deepest and most uncon- 
trollable element in society; and, like those central fires which cause 
earthquakes and convulsions, it can subvert the foundations of any 
government. There is no danger to this land, there is no principle 
at work, so threatening to the permanency of our civil institutions, 
as a misguided, fanatical spirit. This wide-spread and portentous evil 
can be counteracted only by a sound, healthy religious influence ; by 
the diffusion of the gospel, God's remedy, working slowly, — not as 
some men wish to do things ; for as, the smaller the insect, the more 
rapidly it multiplies, so, the smaller the man, the greater the haste in 
which every thing must be done, — working slowly, as G-od ever 
works, but working surely, to cure all the maladies which afflict our 
fallen race. 

" Another characteristic of this association endears it to my heart. 
It is catholic, — catholic, not sectarian. Its motto is : •■,' Unity in 
things essential, liberty in things indifferent, and charity in all 
things.' 

"Here, again, I repeat, in effect, what I said as to the proper love 
of one's native State. If we are sincere, we of course prefer our own 
communion. Macaulay and others have laughed at simple Parson 
Adams, who, after exhorting his hearers to become religious, added, 
'And, when I say religion, I mean the Christian religion; and, by the 



GENERAL CHRISTIAN WORK. 205 

Christian religion, I mean the Protestant ; and, by the Protestant, I 
mean our own.' The proverb says, that, if the faults of the best men 
were written on their foreheads, they would all pull their hats over 
their eyes. It may be that some of us only conceal what this good 
man was frank enough to proclaim. However that may be, we can 
all comprehend and respect his sincerity. But when a man loves 
only his own church; if he cannot love the image of Christ in his 
brother, wherever he finds it, and on whatever metal stamped, — why, 
then I question whether that man's heart has ever been changed by 
the Holy Spirit. A man who loves his sect more than the image of 
Christ in his brother really loves his sect more than Christ, and loves 
himself more than all. 

"Those who refuse to co-operate with Christians of other denomi- 
nations because there is some difference of opinion as to forms and 
rites and sacraments are no doubt quite sincere ; and sincerity is so 
rare a virtue, that I honor it wherever I see it. But, when such 
persons call themselves Protestants, they are guilty of palpable self- 
contradiction : they might as well pretend to be in Rome and Geneva 
at the same time. On this subject there can be only two consistent 
courses, — that of Rome, which forbids all co-operation with others, 
because there is an infallible church; and that of Protestants, who 
allow co-operation, not because the points of difference are unimpor- 
tant (for nothing is unimportant in religion), but because they do not 
recognize an infallible church. 

"I wish this principle of co-operation were more distinctly under- 
stood. It is impossible for those who have the spirit of Christ not to 
love each other. I appeal to all such, whether, at the period of their 
conversion, they did not enter into the apostle's language, and say, 
' Grace be with all them that love our Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity.' 
But a scrupulous conscience may afterwards be perplexed by the 
suggestion, that to unite with others is a compromise of the truth. 
Let it ever be borne in mind that there is no surrender, no letting 
down, of any truth. We were Christians before we were identified 
with any denomination, and our union in this society is not a union 
of denominations. It is something higher and nobler : it is a Chris- 
tian union. We meet to carry forward the great enterprise of salva- 
tion, to diffuse the great essential doctrines, in which we all agree. 
A man, and that man my brother, is sinking in your river. I hear his 
bubbling cry; and, leaping into a boat, I look around for some one to 
take the other oar. In an instant a noble form is at my side, ready 
to bend to his work. But I first catechise him : ' Are you a Baptist ? 
Do you believe in immersion, in close communion? ' With tears he 



206 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

looks up to me: 'See, see!' lie cries, ' your brother is perishing: let 
us save him. before it is too late.' But I refuse. He does not agree 
with me on the doctrines of my church, and I prefer that my brother 
should sink rather than co-operate with him. 

" The melancholy re-actions of Protestantism described by Eanke 
are to be ascribed mainly to these baleful animosities ; and the great 
solvent of our sectarian pre j udices — that which can melt and fuse 
them into love, can cement us and make us cohesive — is co-operation. 
I am weary of hearing homilies on brotherly love. Let us work 
together, let us fight together, and we shall be one, — one in counsel, 
one in heart, one in sacrifice for our common Eedeemer. The parting 
prayer of Jesus will be answered : ' That they may all be one ; that 
the world may believe that Thou hast sent me.' At the battle of the 
Peiho, in China, about a year ago, Commodore Tatnall looked on for a 
while ; but, as the war waxed more fierce, he could stand it no longer. 
' It is no use ! ' he exclaimed ; ' blood is thicker than water ! ' and 
dashed into the fight. And you remember the effect of his conduct 
upon England. ' Well done, Americans ! ' they cried : ' this act will 
do more to bind us to you than all the treaties of diplomatists.' We 
Baptists are sometimes thought to be rather fond of water ; ' somewhat 
amphibious in our creed. But, friends, once for all, understand us: 
we really do not believe that the pure milk of the Word is water. We 
feel that blood is thicker than water. It is blood which draws and 
unites us to you. And this hour, when we stand here side by side, 
and the coming campaigns (in which, wherever the conflict shall be 
closest, and the sword of the Spirit shall flash fastest and brightest, 
we pledge ourselves not to fail you), — these, these will do more to 
unite us than all essays and plans of Christian union which the whole 
college of apostles could devise if they were now on earth. 

" One other excellence of this society is mentioned in the resolu- 
tion. I refer to its influence upon the literature of our coun- 
try. May I be permitted to say a word as to this ? 

" The living ministry is God's ordinance to save them that believe : 
therefore I have no sympathy with those who give the press prece- 
dence over the pulpit. Still, who can measure the power which the 
press exerts? An ounce of lead moulded into a bullet, and put in 
a Minie rifle, with a little black powder under it, will, if it meet no 
obstruction, go some two miles, and do its errand very sufficiently 
upon a man. But that same piece of lead cast into types, and put 
into one of Hoe's lightning-presses, with a little black liquid over it, 
will mock at obstacles, and do its mission, not on one man, but on 
millions, and though mountains, continents, and oceans intervene. 



GENERAL CHRISTIAN WORK. 207 

"A steam printing-press! I feel something like awe as I stand 
before one of these wonderful engines. It seems to me almost as if 
it were a living thing, — one of Ezekiel's living creatures, ' with the 
hands of a man, and the noise of many waters, and the spirit of the 
living creature, in its wheels.' How it strips itself for its work! It 
requires no nourishment, knows no weariness ; but on it toils, with 
a strength which would mock to scorn the might of a giant, with a 
clamor as if it would shiver in pieces any substance within its grasp. 
And yet, with a precision and delicacy unattainable by human 
muscles, it receives a fabric which any rude touch would rend, and, 
impressing upon it in the twinkling of an eye thoughts which it cost 
the most active mind hours to compose, flings off page after page to 
instruct, delight, regenerate, and bless the world. 

" None of us appreciate the potency of the press as an agent for 
the diffusion of knowledge over the land, in heavy tomes, in journals; 
above all, in the daily newspaper, — that wonderful modern institution 
which has revolutionized not only the literary, but the commercial 
and the political world. Constitutionally there are only two estates 
in Congress: but a third estate has sprung up, occupying a higher 
seat than members either of the Senate or House while Congress 
is. in session; for it presides in the galleries, and after Congress 
has adjourned, continuing in session all the year, and all over 
the country. It is composed of the representatives of the press. 
They form and shape public sentiment; and at this day, when the 
world is, as never before, under the influence of public opinion, they 
wield a power transcending that of both the constitutional bodies 
combined. 

" I wish I had time to say something of the singular power with 
which the press has invested the public speaker. We talk of the 
grandeur of ancient oratory ; but how far did its influence extend ? 
Demosthenes ascends the bema. He delivers one of those master- 
pieces of eloquence which are logic on fire. He ceases. How many 
has he reached by his appeals? Athens was a little place, with about 
one hundred and forty thousand inhabitants: not more than ten 
thousand have felt the burning words of that prince of orators. Nor 
can he send his thoughts abroad through the land. There are no 
reporters, no telegraphs, by which we may 'fulmine over Greece.' 
How different the potency of speech now ! In Congress or in Parlia- 
ment, the audience really occupies but little of the speaker's concern. 
He addresses the millions, who, in a few hours, will be reading and 
pondering the words which he has uttered. 

"Think of the power which the press gives to written words, 



i 



208 LIFE OF BICIIABD FULLER. 

especially the word of God ! Niebuhr and others maintain that the 
ancient writers wrote only for a circle of friends, to whom their 
books were read: indeed, if you think of the materials for writing 
which they possessed, you will feel that their readers could only have 
been a select few. As to the Scriptures, we find more than one 
epistle ending with a charge that they ' be read to the churches.' 
Contrast with all this tne facility now furnished by printing, when 
the compositions of a writer are in a few days distributed over all the 
land, and when the word of Gk>d is in the hands of the poorest child 
on the mountain-top, of the savage in the depth of the forest. 

"I need not tell you how diligently the enemies of God have 
availed themselves of these facilities ; and, if the press were left to 
them, we might well, with the German legend, ascribe the art of 
printing to the devil. Even our most respectable booksellers have to 
cater to the diseased taste for pernicious novels, and the press groans 
incessantly (Sunday giving it no rest) with works either openly or 
secretly assailing the gospel. It would be an unheard-of delinquency 
if the Church did not make this powerful engine tributary to the cause 
of the Eedeemer. And I do not hesitate to say that the vehicles we 
employ for the circulation of truth are the most effectual, are indeed 
the only effectual, antidote to the poison which I have just mentioned. 
But I have already detained you too long, and may not dwell upon 
this topic. 

"Let me only remind you, that, when Eternal Wisdom devised a 
plan to counteract the evil in the world, it selected the publication of 
tracts as the most effective expedient. The Bible is a collection of 
tracts written and distributed by God. When the period had come 
for the great Beformation, God disclosed the art of printing, without 
which Luther would have failed. And when Baxter, Bunyan, and 
Butherford were shut up in prison for the truth, with what sway did 
they not employ the press ! A man may not preach : he is not prop- 
erly ordained to preach. Yery well ; but he may write a book. For 
this no priestly manipulation is necessary. If God have laid his hand 
on a man's head and heart, he may write a book. And a man who 
writes a good book is a priest, a bishop, an archbishop, though he 
he may never have been to Borne or Geneva, or Lambeth or Prince- 
ton, or Andover or Brown University. What would the Sunday 
school do without a religious press, without a library ? In our 
families we can not and would not keep our children from reading. 
What a blessing it is that we can fill our houses with works in which 
the noblest intellect and most refined taste have been consecrated to 
Jesus ! The individual Christian is now endowed with a talent to do 



1 



GENERAL CHRISTIAN WORK. 209 

good which cannot be over-estimated. He may be ignorant; he may 
not be able to say a word ; he may be a deaf-mute : but he has the 
gift of tongues; he can speak with the learning and eloquence of the 
most illustrious saints who have adorned the church and pulpit ; for 
he can distribute their best productions. 

" In a word, and not to weary you with details, look at the masses 
of busy, restless life around you, — the multitude whose steps ' beat 
the murmuring walks like autumn rain.' Who are they ? Where 
are their homes ? How fatal are the influences which encircle them ! 
How can they be visited by the ministries of salvation, except 
through your agency ? There is no accommodation for them in the 
churches, and thousands would not enter the house of God if there 
were. What is to become of them ? God so loved the world, that he 
gave his only-begotten Son for its salvation. Yet they will perish, 
unless you go to their rescue. 

"But they must not perish. 'Let them alone?' No, no! God 
forbids that. Jesus does not say, ' Let them alone : wait till they 
come to you.' He says, ' Go, — go preach the gospel.' In faith let 
us obey that command. Men and brethren, it is impossible for us 
to look back without thanking God and taking courage. Those who 
prayed and wept over the cradle of the American Tract Society never 
anticipated such results from its maturest vigor as we have already 
witnessed. They never even hoped that it would scatter such bless- 
ings over this country ; that it would be such an ally to the ministry ; 
that it would infuse such strength into the churches; that it would 
so penetrate the dark places of our land, and shed light there ; that it 
would take the emigrant as he lands upon our shores, and lead him 
to the cross; that it would plant Sunday schools and churches in 
wildernesses and desert places ; that it would so powerfully re-enforce 
the cause of temperance, the Bible, the missionary enterprise; that 
from Maine to Mexico, from the Atlantic to the Pacific, in the val- 
leys, by the rivers, all along the mountain-ranges, it would comfort 
the afflicted, enlighten the blind, restore the fallen, and lead the 
erring in the paths of salvation. 

"Hitherto hath the Lord helped us. Because he hath been our 
help, therefore under the shadow of his wings will we rejoice. No 
weapon formed against us shall prosper. It is the cause of Him in 
whose hands are the resources of the universe. Let us but have 
faith, and a glorious future beckons us on. 

•Faith, mighty faith, the promise eyes, 
And looks to that alone ; 
Laughs at impossibilities, 
And says, " It shall he done ! " ' " 



210 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

Another decade of years had rolled on. The storm the 
prophet's e3 T e had seen had gathered, and burst over the land. 
What men like Cla} T and Webster, if the}' had foreseen, had 
so eloquently deprecated, — the appeal to the sword, — had 
come, and cut with a dreadful but decisive blow the Gordian 
knot of the disputed question. The issue as to which great 
and good men in all sections had conscientiously differed had 
been met, and forever settled. 

Another and yet more catholic society is about to meet in 
New York. In cars and ships, from every clime and conti- 
nent, men are hurrying to the American metropolis, under 
the power of some great attraction. A Protestant ecumeni- 
cal council is about to meet, to give expression, through its 
ablest representatives, to the great truths that lie close to the 
heart and mind of the Church. The converted Brahmin, the 
swarthy Ethiopian, the cultivated European, all have come to 
sit in council with their brethren in America, to recount the 
wonderful works of God. It was a grand assemblage, — 
grand in its object, its spirit, and the character and talents 
of the men who composed it. No such august bod}^ had ever 
before met on the American continent. It was a sign of the 
times, and a wonderful thing, to witness the throngs knocking 
dailv for admission at the doors of this council as eagerly 
as at the gates of the Great Exhibition in Philadelphia. The 
discussion of what had been regarded as dry, uninteresting 
dogmas, had excited as much interest in the popular mind as 
the subsequent display of the material products and wealth 
of the nations. 

It was not surprising that Richard Fuller should be called 
to this conference ; and it showed the estimate its managers 
had formed of his high character and ability, to assign him, 
as the topic of his address, the subject of personal religion. 
It was the foundation of his own character, the theme and 
inspiration of his whole ministry. 



GENERAL CHRISTIAN WORK. 211 

PERSONAL RELIGION. 

ITS ADDS AN T D HESDEEANCES. 

''Religion (from re ligo) means the re-attachment to God of the 
soul which had estranged itself from him. By the very force of the 
term we are reminded of our dismal apostasy, and of that amazing 
anomaly in the divine jurisprudence by which guilt is pardoned, the 
pinings of despoiled humanity for reconciliation with the Father 
are satisfied, and our entire nature — senses, intellect, conscience, 
passions — is re-adjusted. 

" The subject assigned me is 'Personal Religion, its Aids and Hin- 
derances.' Nor was there ever a period when this topic claimed more 
serious and prayerful contemplation ; for while, in theory, all admit 
that there can be no substitute for holiness, yet, in reality, specious 
counterfeits and nostrums are on every side corrupting and super- 
seding the doctrines of the cross. 

" There is, for example, an artificial orthodoxy, a dry light in the 
mind, which sheds no influence on the life. D'Aubigne tells us, that, 
after hearing Haldane reason upon human depravity, he said to him, 
' Now I see that doctrine in the Bible.' — ' Yes,' replied the Scottish 
divine ; ' but do you see it in your heart ? ' , It was this artless yet 
profound question which led to the conversion of the great historian. 
And this is now the inquiry to be pressed as to all evangelical truth : 
Do we see it, feel it, in our hearts ? ' I am the way, and the truth, 
and the life.' It is one thing to admit this imperial self-assertion of 
our Lord, and a very different thing to realize it. But nothing is saving 
faith which stops short of a full, controlling reception of it, — a recep- 
tion that thrones Jesus personally over the mind, the heart, the life. 
This is the religion of the gospel. It is as simple as it is severe and 
sublime. There is, however, too much reason to fear, that for this 
personal following Christ, and adhering to him, multitudes adopt a 
loyalty to creeds, confessions, systems; faith in which is important, 
but faith in which (yea, a general faitb in the written Word) may be 
fatally mistaken for faith in that personal Saviour, whose life, exam- 
ple, death, resurrection, are, objectively and subjectively, the grand, 
informing, controlling rule of faith to his disciples. 'Follow me.' 
When Jesus was upon earth, this was the abridgment of all his doc- 
trines, the epitome of all his sermons, his whole body of divinity; 
and this is still his strict demand, refusing to obey which we ' lack 
one thing,' and are fatally defective in every thing. 'Follow me,' — 
me, not a religion ; Jesus came not to teach, but to be, our religion, 



212 LIFE OF BICE ABB FULLEB. 

— me, not a dogma, — me, not a doctrine, — me, not linen decencies, 
apocryphal successions, mystical, cabalistic virtues, — me, not a creed 
nor a confession, — me, not even faith in the Bible, — me, me; come 
follow me. That is what the Saviour requires of all; and he who 
neglects to comply takes up the whole matter amiss ; he misunder- 
stands or neglects the very gospel by which he hopes to be saved. 

" Then, again, instead of personal consecration, we detect all 
around us the religion of imposing formalisms, of fascinating ritual- 
isms, of externalisms, which may be as graceful as the exquisite statu- 
ary in the Greek temples, but are just as destitute of real life; which 
lull the conscience, regale the taste and fancy, but leave the heart un- 
changed. We are surprised, that, in the midst of the noontide illumi- 
nation of the gospel, men can still be bewitched by the superstitions, 
impostures, and pageantry of the Church of Rome. We forget two 
things : first, that, in our fallen condition, imagination is stronger than 
reason. We see this in our child. You take your little boy into a 
toy-shop, and purchase an ugly mask. He knows you are his father, 
and the mask nothing but a piece of painted pasteboard ; yet, when 
you put on the hideous false face, he is terrified. How do you explain 
this ? It is a proof, that, in the child, imagination is stronger than 
reason. Nor is it otherwise with children of a larger growth. A 
lady weeps over ' The Sorrows of Werther,' or some other sentimen- 
tal novel. Does she believe it to be true ? Does she not know that 
it is a pure fiction ? A man of sense enters the theatre. The play is 
' Hamlet.' Does he really suppose that he is in Denmark ? Is he not 
certain that the actor in sables, with such a rueful countenance, is, 
not the Prince of Denmark, but Mr. Jones, whom he met the night 
before in a drinking-saloon ? And the lady with her dishevelled air 
and picturesque miseries — does he think that she is really the love- 
lorn Ophelia ? does he not know that she is only Jones's wife ? Yet 
he sits there bathed in tears. And what is the solution of all this ? 
We have already given it. In the lady and in the man, as in the little 
boy, imagination is stronger than reason. And now apply this impor- 
tant moral principle to the matter in hand, and we understand why 
the mummeries of Rome exert such a magical spell over people in 
their senses. The secret is an open secret: it is that spectacles, 
rites, festivals, processions, robes, censers, relics, choristers, priests, 
and altars, all appeal directly to the imagination. 

" And we overlook another fact. We forget that these ceremonies 
are the most subtle form of self-righteousness. They are pleasing to 
the unrenewed heart, because they are performed to merit God's 
favor, and they thus offer the most grateful incense to the self-corn- 



GENERAL CHRISTIAN WORK. 213 

placency of our unregenerate nature. Nor is it only in Popery — the 
masterpiece of human craft — that religion thus crystallizes into 
seductive forms, that materialities are a counterfeit for piety. The 
hitter hostility of the Pharisees was inflamed against Jesus because 
they perceived that he was abrogating the gorgeous machinery of the 
temple by which their spiritual pride was intensely flattered, and was 
requiring purity of heart and life. And still, at this day, the cross of 
Christ, the obedience, the self-renunciation, the holiness, of the gos- 
pel, stir up the enmity of multitudes, because they assail the tradi- 
tions of their fathers, and abolish those old hereditary sanctities, 
which, under the insidious garb of religion, flatter their pride, quiet 
their consciences, and are clung to as sacred heirlooms, transmitted 
through a long line of honored ancestors. 

" I mention only one other substitute for personal piety. This we 
may designate as a sort of corporate religion, a devotedness to some 
church, by which we become, not Christians, but churchmen; and the 
impositions which men and women practise upon themselves under 
this delusion are almost incredible. Never, perhaps, did any body of 
soldiers regard themselves as enlisted in such a high and holy enter- 
prise as those who rallied under the banner of the crusaders; yet 
never was there an army more depraved and dissolute. And a self- 
deception every whit as infatuated is witnessed now in thousands 
who are the bigoted advocates of some ecclesiastical organization, 
who contribute their wealth, and would pour out their blood, for some 
church, the tenets of which they neither understand nor believe, and 
the morality of which they treat with undisguised contempt. 

(/ " Unquestionably, the very mission of the gospel, all its aims and I 
appointments, suppose and require the existence of churches ; nor do 
the Scriptures recognize as a Christian any one who refuses to iden- \ 
tify himself publicly with that empire which Jesus has set up on the 
earth. But few heresies have been so degrading to the religion of 
Jesus as that which exalts faith in sacramentalism, in a priesthood, 
in church, above sanctity of heart and life. Surely, if union with 
any peculiar society were essential to salvation, Jesus would have 
clearly defined that society. But neither in the judicature of his 
kingdom, published in the Sermon on the Mount, nor in his pro- 
gramme of the last judgment, does he utter a single word about 
church. Nor can this surprise us :l f or visible churches are only aids ; J 
their ordinances and ministries are valuable only as they promote 
personal holiness. ( No error of the Church of Eome is more fatal than 
that which teaches that a church can do something mechanically to 
save us. » And all churches practise the same impostures which get 



214 LIFE OF EICHABD FULLER. 

rid of religion by something that seems to be religious ; which over- 
look the great truth, that every man must be his own priest; which, 
instead of seeking to awaken and nourish the spirit of faith, peni- 
tence, sanctity, by their prayers, hymns, lessons, sermons, services, 
invest these performances with a superstitious virtue, and thus satisfy 
the conscience with something short of holiness, and fix the heart on 
some sanctimonious machinery instead of on Christ. 

"I have thus indicated some of the dangers which at this day ur- 
gently admonish us to insist upon the great duty of cultivating true 
personal piety. What, however, do we mean by personal piety ? This 
is a question of eternal moment. I therefore give the answer, seek- 
ing in this, as in all I utter, to ascertain ' the mind of the Spirit.' 

" By personal piety I mean, first, a principle, a new, gracious prin- 
ciple; not a succession of good deeds, but a spiritual principle, of 
which such good deeds are the fruits and evidences. 

' ' By personal piety I mean an internal life ; not outward activities, 
but an inward power, an instinct of devotion, of faith, prayer, self- 
immolation, habitual communion with God, which is incorporated 
among the very elements of our being. One of the most remarkable 
features of our age is the energy with which men combine their 
efforts in every sort of enterprise. In the church, as in the world, 
whatever people wish to do, they form a society to do it with ; and 
therefore, in the church as in the world, one of our perils is a religion 
which is from without, not from within, the mistaking what we do 
for what we are, and, consequently, the neglect of our own spiritual 
health and prosperity, while we engage in the diversified systems of 
concerted movements which incessantly claim our attention. 

" By personal piety I mean a vitalizing principle, — a principle the 
vitality of which, like all real life, is attested by continual growth. 
If there be spiritual life, there will be a progressive enlargement of 
the mind, and expansion of the soul : we ' grow in grace ; ' and this 
development will be ' according to the proportion of faith,' the har- 
mony and symmetry of the gospel. 

" In a word, the personal piety denned by the Scriptures is not any 
emotional impulse: it is a real, deep, practical force, which, deriving 
its strength from G-od, raises the soul above the senses and passions ; 
inbreeds in it. temperance, chastity, self-control; cherishes in it that 
abiding consciousness of the presence and power of Jesus which will 
cause it to be always perfecting its heavenly faculties, having ' its 
fruit unto holiness, and the end everlasting life.' 

"Religion, personal piety, — the very purpose for which Christ 
"' bore our sins, in his own body on the tree ' was, ' that we, being dead 



GENERAL CHRISTIAN WORK. 215 

to sin, should live unto righteousness.' And, if we are Christians, the 
subject now in hand must be profoundly interesting to us ; for if we 
are Christians, if we have passed from death unto life, then there has 
been not merely a change, but a spiritual resurrection, — a transition, 
not only into the peace and privileges of a new forensic relation to 
God, but into a new character, the very first conscious ingredient of 
which is an instinctive, irrepressible longing and yearning after per- 
fect holiness. Tet how far are we from that holiness ! Happy the 
man whose good desires ripen into fruits, whose evil thoughts perish 
in the blossom ! But, alas ! too often the reverse of this is our mourn- 
ful experience. We, — even we who are the teachers and examples 
for others, — would we be always willing to let them look into our 
hearts ? Woe unto us ! How ineffectual are our clearest convictions, 
our most solemn resolutions ! so that at times it really seems as if the 
gospel cannot accomplish in us what it promises, as if remaining sin 
were too much for God. iSTot one of us, but again and again, with 
bitter weeping, has exclaimed, ' "We are tied and bound by the chains 
of our own sins; but do thou, O Lord! of the pitifulness of thy great 
mercy, loose us.' Yet even our prayers have been unavailing. And, 
now, why is this so ? In answer to this inquiry, it is generally said 
that we are fallen, and the taint and pollution of sin still adhere to 
us. But this is no answer; for "the gospel is the divine remedy for 
this very evil.y It is a melancholy fact, that we have all been sadly 
disappointedin the hopes which inspired our hearts when we were 
first converted to God. Having tasted the love of Jesus, rejoicing in 
him with a joy unspeakable and full of glory, we believed that we 
were forever delivered from the solicitations of sin. But too soon 
this joy withered away from us; too soon the truth broke in bitterly 
upon us, that we were not wholly sanctified ; too soon we were amazed 
and humbled by the consciousness of remaining corruptions. Is this, 
however, to be forever the Christian's experience ? Must the prodi- 
gal, even after his return, still be continually grieving his father? 
Must God be always thus dishonored by the ' motions of sin ' in his 
own children? Is it necessary that a cloud should ever separate be- 
tween Jesus and the soul he has redeemed ? We can scarcely adopt 
a system which so mocks the highest, holiest aspirations of the ' new 
creature.' Surely God has not quickened in us a hungering and 
thirsting after holiness which is not to be filled. ' The water that I 
shall give him shall be in him a well of water springing up into ever- 
lasting life.' This cannot mean that there is to be in us a fountain 
forever sending up impure and poisonous waters ! jSTo ! and again no ! 
Let us not be calculating accurately how much a Christian must sin. 



216 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

Let us not be examining carefully how much sinning is indispensable 
to true orthodoxy. Let us not vacate the exceeding great and pre- 
cious promises of the Bible, and limit the Holy Spirit by whom we 
are sanctified, and depreciate the efficacy of that faith which ■ purifies 
the heart,' of that hope which engages us to be ' pure as Christ is 
pure,' and thus deduct from the virtue of that atonement, the effect of 
which should be, that we walk in the security of an imputed and in 
the joy of an imparted righteousness. 

"Nor will it avail much for our growth in personal holiness that 
we specify the besetting sin and peculiar hinderances with which each 
Christian has to contend, some of which are in the body, others in 
the mind, others in the heart, the most formidable in the imagina- 
tion. Nor will a cure be made by prescribing the usual antidotes and 
precautions, such as fasting and prayer and meditation, and read- 
ing the word of God. Me, pondering for years this eternally moment- 
ous subject, with much prayer, many tears, and after most mortify- 
ing experiences, one great truth now possesses with all the certainty 
of perfect conviction : it is, that, with the children of God, the chief 
cause of such deplorable deficiency in holiness is the defect in our 
conceptions as to the way of holiness revealed in the gospel. En- 
lightened as to a free, full, present forgiveness through faith in Jesus, 
the error of those who go to the law, to their own efforts, for absolu- 
tion from the penalty of sin, seems to us the strangest blindness; 
but we forget that salvation from the power and corruption of sin, 
from sin itself, must be in the same way. 

" After all the controversies waged and waging, it appears to me 
quite incontestable, that, in the seventh chapter of Eomans, the apostle 
is describing the painful conflicts and defeats of a child of God, who 
is seeking to perfect holiness by the deeds of the law. That was the 
very ' falling from grace,' from the gracious provisions of the gospel, 
which he deplored in the Galatians. ' This only would I learn of you, 
Received ye the Spirit by the works of the law, or by the hearing of 
faith f Are ye so foolish f Having begun in the Spirit, are ye now 
made perfect by the flesh f ' And I may appeal to every Christian, and 
ask whether this same error and its lamentable consequences have 
not entered into his own experience. Coming to Jesus, casting your 
soul with all its interests upon him, you received all you came for; 
you experienced the peace and blessedness of pardon ; and such was 
the gratitude and love glowing in your bosom, that, ' being made free 
from sin, you became the servants of righteousness.' 

" But did this deadness to sin continue ? Did the expulsive poten- 
cy of this new affection permanently dislodge the evil propensities of 



GENERAL CHRISTIAN WORK. 217 

your nature ? On the contrary, no mortification can be more sub- 
stantial than that you have felt at the revival of the life and power 
of sin within you. And, now, why this ? — why, but that you sought 
holiness by the law, and not by faith ? Nothing could be more sincere 
than your resolutions, promises, and efforts: but the humbling sense 
of their utter insufficiency caused you in anguish to exclaim, ' O 
wretched man that I am ! who shall deliver me from the body of this 
death ? ' Nor did you find relief, peace, strength, victory over your 
corruptions, until you repaired to the fountain open for sin and un- 
cleanness; until, looking to Jesus, casting your soul upon him for 
sanctification, just as you did at first for pardon, you uttered that ex- 
ulting shout, ' I thank God through Jesus Christ our Lord ! ' 

" The one great aid, then, to personal piety, the one essential re- 
source comprehending and giving efficacy to all others, is faith in 
Jesus, — in him who was called Jesus, because he would save his peo- 
ple from their sins ; not only from the guilt of sin, but from sin it- 
self. If we are to ' lay aside every weight, and the sin which doth so 
easily beset us,' there is but a single way: it is ' looking unto Jesus.' 
If we are to have our fruit unto holiness, there is but one way: 
'Abide in me,' says Jesus; 'in me,' not in a church; 'in me,' 
not in your own works. Of course the life of every true disciple of 
the Kedeemer will be a life of daily self-denial. Every evangelical 
grace supposes and requires daily self-denial. Nor only so : the sins 
most fatal to Christians require and suppose daily self-denial ; for it 
is not through insincerity, or evil intentions, but through indolence, 
effeminacy, excess in lawful things, that those who are really con- 
verted so often dishonor the holy name they bear, and pierce them- 
selves through with many sorrows. Yet, for all this, it is true, that, in 
subduing our depravities, one act of faith is worth a whole life of at- 
tempted faithfulness. As the smallest skiff, if sound, will bear a 
passenger to a richly-furnished ship, so the feeblest act of faith, if it 
be genuine, will unite the soul to Him in whom dwelleth all the 
treasures of grace and strength, and who ' of God is made unto us 
wisdom and righteousness and sanctification and redemption.' 

" In drawing these observations to a .close, I would remark, that, 
while we are all familiar with the subject discussed, none of us are 
familiar with its greatness and its importance. No one can glance at 
the present state of the world without feeling that Jesus is taking to 
himself his great name, and asserting his imperial supremacy. My 
soul stands erect and exults as I survey the rapidly-extending con- 
quests of that adorable Being who never contemplated for his empire 
any sphere narrower than the whole earth ; whom three continents 



218 LIFE OF BICHABD FULLER. 

now worship ; whose victories are the standing miracle of the uni- 
verse ; whose word has, for nearly nineteen centuries, been the law 
of laws to all civilized nations ; who, ' the holiest among the mighty, 
and the mightiest among the holy, has, with his pierced hand, lifted 
empires off their hinges, has turned the stream of centuries out of its 
channel, and is still governing the ages; ' who is presiding in senates, 
ruling tribunals of justice, controlling kings and cabinets, framing 
and shaping the growing stature of the world, blessing it with good 
governments, with the highest knowledges, with the fairest humani- 
ties, with the noblest powers, with the dearest amenities and chari- 
ties, with ' whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are true, 
whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report.' 

"But let us not be imposed upon by these external triumphs. 
The true kingdom of Jesus is spiritual and interior. It is the empire 
of truth over the mind, of holiness over the heart and the life. In- 
ward sanctity, pure, constraining love to God and man, sincere obedi- 
ence, — where Jesus reigns, these are the elements of his sovereignty; 
and, without these, no outward homage can make us his real dis- 
ciples. 

" If we are to be useful in winning souls, in advancing the true 
interests of the Eedeemer, the secret is, not genius nor learning : it 
is, as David declares, ' a clean heart,' the constant presence and 
power of the Holy Spirit. 

"If we are to enjoy spiritual happiness, if the joy of the Lord is 
to be our strength, the conscience must be purified from the stain of 
sin, and we must live every day in the consciousness of entire conse- 
cration to Jesus. ' The kingdom of G-od,' the reign of Christ, ' is 
righteousness, peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost.' It is first holiness, 
then peace and blessedness. 

" Lastly, our salvation. ' Without holiness, no man shall see the 
Lord.' Every human being has at some time felt that the one great 
message of God to him is, ' Be thou holy, for I am holy; ' and again 
and again, in the most awful terms and by every diversity of em- 
phatic admonition, Jesus warns us of the terrible disappointment 
which at the judgment shall overwhelm those who forget that repent- 
ance is not the utterance of the lips, but the change of the heart; 
who, living in self-indulgence and sin, stupefy their consciences by 
that most unsearchable flattery of having prophesied in his name, 
and in his name done many wonderful works. 

" Let us enter into these thoughts. Let us begin to ' cleanse our- 
selves from all filthiness of the flesh and spirit, perfecting holiness in 
the fear of God.' And let us enter upon this life now. To-morrow 



GENERAL CHRISTIAN WORK. 219 

may be too late. Ready, or not ready, death is stealing on with silent 
steps. The summons may be sudden. Or, if you pass into eternity by 
a protracted sickness, need I tell you what death-bed conversions are 
really worth ? Believing that one of two brothers who had long been 
at enmity was about to die, a minister of Jesus was exceedingly 
anxious to effect a reconciliation between them. The sick man had 
been the more violent in his feelings ; but now he acquiesced in the 
proposed interview. They met ; and, after prayer by the pastor, each 
held the hand of the other, and professed sorrow for the past. As his 
brother was leaving the chamber, however, the patient called him 
back, and said. ' James, I have made it up because I think I am going 
to die; but remember, if I get well, it will be just as it was before.' 
This scene was real, and it illustrates the nature of professed changes 
of heart in a dying-hour. All is penitence and tears in prospect of 
eternity; but, let health return, and with it comes the resurrection of 
the man's passions. If he gets well, it is with his sins just as it was 
before. 

"May God in mercy save us from this and from all delusions in a 
matter of such infinite moment ! Let each of us so pass each day as 
to say, ' To me to live is Christ,' remembering it is only then we can 
add, ' and to die is gain.' 

" Personal piety, growing sanctification of heart and life, — with- 
out this, all our hopes are fatal self-deceptions. Talents, erudition, 
wealth, influence, life, — may we dedicate all these to our Lord, and 
thus be faithful in these stewardships which have been confided to 
us ! But let us ever remember those words so full of solemn signifi- 
cancy, ' Not yours, but you ; ' and, while devoting our zeal and ener- 
gies to the cause and glory of our common Redeemer, let us ' hold a 
good conscience ' as well as ' the faith; ' let us be ever exercising that 
self-mastery, without which, after having preached to others, we our- 
selves shall be castaways ; ever cultivating that all-pervading sanctity 
which is strength, victory, joy now, and the foretaste and earnest of 
a blessed immortality. 

" O Jesus, vouchsafe us this inestimable blessing! 

1 As thou didst give no law for me 
But that of perfect liberty, 
Which neither tires nor doth corrode, 
Which is a pillow, not a load, 
Teach both my eyes and hands to move 
Within those bounds set by thy love ; 
Grant I may pure and lowly be, 
And live my life, O Christ! to thee.' 



220 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

"'Now the God of peace, that brought again from the dead our 
Lord Jesus, that great shepherd of the sheep, through the blood of 
the everlasting covenant, make you perfect in every good work to do 
his will, working in you that which is well-pleasing in his sight, 
through Jesus Christ; to whom be glory for ever and ever. Amen.' " 

Perhaps, in literary merit and logical force, this address 
was not equal to the two quoted before (the theme required 
a different treatment) ; but the central idea of Christian life 
— the love of a present, personal Saviour — is explained with 
great force and impressiveness. 

James Mcintosh, a Scotch divinity-student at Geneva, 
Switzerland, a young man of great promise, who died some 
twenty-five years ago, wrote some admirable letters on the 
subject of personal religion. He remarks on what seemed 
to him to be a more cheerful and vigorous type of piety with 
the Geneva Christians than with Christians generally in 
Great Britain. His explanation of this was the clearer 
apprehension, at Geneva, of the Lord Jesus as a present, 
personal Friend and Saviour. It would, no doubt, add to 
the strength and peace of Christians everywhere to insist 
less on creeds and doctrines about Christ, and dwell more on 
that gracious and glorious presence. 

Dr. Fuller read this dissertation. A minister who heard 
it remarked, that the reading was like shutting up an eagle 
in a cage. The impression on the audience would doubt- 
less have been far greater if he had followed his usual 
method, and spoken without notes. With his wonderful im- 
pressiveness of manner, the confinement of a manuscript was, 
as his critic remarked, the caging or clipping of the eagle. 
As it was, the New-York papers pronounced this essa} r one 
of the features of the day. 

Among the great and good men in that council he ranked 
with the foremost of them, — an assembly so remarkable in 
many features, that it is a sign of the times, if not of the last 
times. The lamented Alford remarks, that the diffusion of 



GENERAL CHRISTIAN WORK. 221 

missions, and the spread of some great apostasy, will be the 
pre-eminent sign. It is not for us to know " the times or 
the seasons, which the Father hath put in his own power." 
But, to all serious minds, the spectacle was as suggestive as 
it was grand and imposing in its character. The converted 
Brahmin by the side of a son of Ethiopia, and these sur- 
rounded by the representatives of Europe and America, 
showed, that, if the dense masses of Heathendom had not yet 
been changed by the gospel, that gospel had still been " pub- 
lished for a witness ' ' to almost all nations ; while the infidel 
and atheistic tendencies of the day, in their attempted alli- 
ance with some branches of modern science, will probabry be 
the most desperate, if not the last, onset against " the truth 
as it is in Jesus." But wise men from the west, as well as 
wise men from the east, still and alwaj^s come to lay their 
tribute at the Saviour's feet. In the procession of a branch 
of the alliance that visited Washington, and marched through 
its streets, there was not a more humble and interested 
member and participant than Joseph Henry, the prince of 
American scientists, who has since joined another proces- 
sion beyond the hghtning and the stars. 



222 LIFE OF BICHABD FULLEB. 



CHAPTER XXIII. 

LETTERS. 

11 Short swallow-flights of song, 
That dip their wings, and skim away." 

IN a book, sermon, or elaborate address, the author is be- 
fore us in a more studied form ; but in letters, espe- 
cially in those that were never intended for publication, the 
writer is more himself. These warm, unguarded effusions 
of the heart let us more into that inner mystery of our being, 
into which none but the Omniscient E} T e can fully penetrate. 

The letters of Dr. Fuller are Taluable, not onl^ because 
they show us what the man was, but because, in the absence 
of a diar}^, they furnish the only means of this kind of famil- 
iar acquaintance. 

We shall first introduce some earlier and more private 
correspondence. 1 

Beaufort, S.C., January, 1843. 
Mrs. N. B. Moore. 

My dear Sister, — Now I hope every thing is ready, and that on 
Thursday, the 12th, I shall get out of the omnibus at your door. And 
I only wish you and your husband may feel half the anxiety to see 
me that I do to see and be with you. Never can I cease to love you 
both ; and it is no little proof of my affection that I anticipate only 
pleasure, and forget all the pain and humiliation I must endure, in 
the visit now contemplated. 

After all, what a conceited fool am I to be minding so much the 
mortification of my feelings! Much that we call "delicacy" is, I 

1 The letters were written to a lady of Augusta, Ga., who was baptized, with 
her husband, during the revival of 1841 in that city. 



LETTERS. 223 

am sure, sinful. And is there any tiling to be ashamed of in any work 
to which my Lord can call me ? Much have I suffered, and much 
must encounter, in my present work: but "it is a great work," and 
one demanded of me ; and I " will go in the strength of the Lord God." 

My office, too, has, I trust, been already blessed to me. Never 
before did I feel the passage, "He made himself of no reputation." 
Hitherto the gospel ministry has been, I fear, not enough a self- 
denying labor, without any regard to reputation. Conscious that 
ambition was my sin, I had resolved, when first called to the minis- 
try, to confine my labors wholly to our colored population. I was 
prevented by the hand of God. Popularity followed; and, though 
I have persuaded myself that I cared nothing for it, He "whom I 
serve" has perhaps seen (nay, the perhaps is hypocritical: he has 
seen) that I was deceiving myself, and seeking too much to gratify 
my easily-besetting propensity, even when most zealously devoted to 
my work. Is not this a common and fatal evil ? Even in religious 
duties, how strong the temptation to select only those which do not 
cost us any thing, and so to adjust our obedience, our very religion, 
as not only not to combat, but really to flatter and nourish, the sin 
"which does so easily" (oh, what energy in those little words, "so 
easily " !) " beset us," and which, therefore, demands the most 
unsleeping and unmitigated vigilance! 

"Despising the shame." Did you ever reflect on these words? 
They are very noble ; for, in truth, what is shame ? It is not the 
loss of the esteem of others, but of our own respect for ourselves. 
This Jesus never lost: hence he despised, he looked down with 
pity upon, the contumely which a blind world poured upon a cause 
that fills all heaven with hosannas of wonder and adoration. Paul 
was "not ashamed of the gospel." This was great; but Jesus Christ 
"despised the shame." Of no mere man was this ever true: such 
elevation and grandeur are superhuman. I hope my unpleasant feel- 
ings are not entirely from this source, however. The task assigned 
me is and must be painful to others. How many have the desire to 
give liberally, but not the means ! But I will not dwell on the subject : 
indeed, after the kind sympathies exhibited for us in Savannah and 
elsewhere, I will promise myself, amidst some selfishness, much of 
the love which every Christian professes for Jesus, and which, in 
such a cause, will show itself wherever it exists. 

A new year ! May we have grace to enter upon it with new hearts, 
and new purposes of entire devotion to God! "Thou shalt remem- 
ber all the way which the Lord thy God led thee these forty years 
in the wilderness, to humble thee, and to prove thee, to know 



224 LIFE OF BICHARD FULLER. 

what was in thy heart, whether thou wouldest keep his command- 
ments, or no" (Deut. viii. 2). I have made the text a subject for 
my own New- Year's reflection. Have God's dealings had the effect 
designed ? "To humble thee." Have I been made humble ? "To 
prove " (i.e., try) " thee." Has not the trial proved me most faithless ? 
" To know " (i.e., make thee know) " what is in thy heart." O heart! 
deceitful and desperately wicked, who can know thee ? Yet I think 
I see more and more, that " he that trusteth in his own heart is a 
fool." "Whether thou wouldest keep his commandments, or no." 
"No, no! " has been too often the language of my sins. But I hope 
my soul still cleaves unto God's testimonies, and feels, that, in keep- 
ing his commandments, there is great reward. 
Your affectionate brother, 

E. FULLEE. 

Bbaufobt, S.C., March, 1843. 

Mrs. N. B. Mooke. 

My dear Sister, — I wrote to William Brantly my decision, in 
which I comply with his request, except as to a protracted meeting in 
Augusta. If other reasons had not conspired, your letter would have 
secured this latter determination. What, my sister, can I hope to do, 
when you, on whose prayers I should so much rely, desire me to 
come, not in humbleness and self-renunciation, and the "fulness of 
the blessing of the gospel," but " well prepared " in tropes and argu- 
ments, and rhetorical jewelry, so that I may outshine others, and win 
golden opinions, and carry the palm with worms who enter God's 
sanctuary as if it were a theatre, and criticise his ambassadors as if 
they were actors? Now, do not misunderstand me. I know the feel- 
ing is natural. One of my sisters (and they are very pious) would be 
tempted to feel thus. Like all else in you, the desire shows your 
friendship for me. No doubt, too (as you justify yourself by argu- 
ing), it is natural to wish the advocates of truth to surpass those who 
teach, on some points, what we hold as error. Still, what is natural 
is often very wrong ; and, rest assured, the only superiority we should 
ever wish for the advocates of truth is deadness to their own reputa- 
tion, and that zeal and "power," and "demonstration of the Spirit," 
which spring from holy self-oblivion, and a single eye to the glory of 
God and the salvation of souls. ' "We preach, not ourselves, but 
Christ." Pray for me, that this may be my motto; pray for all who 
preach, that this may be their ambition, — a noble ambition ! — to hold 
up the cross, and hide themselves in adoration behind it; and pray 
for yourself, that you may make these prayers. I am by no means 



LETTERS. 225 

pretending that no other ambition creeps into my bosom at times : 
but I hope I can truly appeal to God, that for some years I have 
prayed for other ministers as earnestly as for myself; that, when 
preaching with others, I am devoid of all feeling of rivalry; and that 
my great request has been and is that I may be a humble Christian, 
humility and holiness as far transcending all gifts of eloquence as the 
heavens are high above the earth. . 

The affliction in the family of Mr. Jenkins and Judge Holt has 
affected me much, and drawn out my fervent prayers for them. 
What two exemplary characters ! And, while I have preached in your 
city, how often has my soul yearned over them! God has seen fit to 
preach himself to them. Oh, may they " hear the rod, and Him who 
has appointed it" ! To lose a child's life must be a crushing thing; 
but more dreadful to lose its death. Nor will I believe that they will 
" despise the chastening of the Lord." God grant that the rod which 
wounds may infuse in the wound the healing balm, and all may say, 
" It is good for us that we have been afflicted " ! Present my condo- 
lence to them, I beg you. I was affected in reading the following 
passage in J. Paul Richter, which I translate loosely : is it not fine ? — 
"A pale child was lamenting that the dewdrops had been exhaled 
so soon one hot morning. ' O Sun ! ' he exclaimed, ' thou hast in thy 
heat chased them from the flowers, and swallowed them in thy wrath.' 
Soon there was rain, and a rainbow. His father, pointing up, said, 
' My child, look! There are thy dewdrops, radiantly reset, and glit- 
tering in the heavens ; and the rustic foot can trample them no more. 
Learn by this, my child, that what withers in the morning on earth 
blooms gloriously in the skies.' Thus the parent spoke, and knew 
not that he uttered death-prophetic words ; for soon that pale child, 
with the dewy brightness of morning on him, was exhaled, and went 
to heaven." 

Farewell ! My warmest love to Brother Moore and the children. 
Mrs. Fuller sends her love. 

Your affectionate brother, 

E. Fuller. 

Beaufort, S.C., May 23, 1843. 
Mrs. N". B. Moore. 

My dear Sister, — I believe, really, that it is with friendship as 
with ghosts, of which everybody talks, but how few have ever seen 
them ! If I am satisfied of any thing, it is that I have a heart formed 
for the purest and most devoted attachments ; and, if affection were 
like a mathematical quantity, I should feel that I sinned most fear- 



226 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

fully in diminishing the love due to God by so much love for my 
friends. The same command, however, requires love to God and the 
neighbor, and informs us that Christian affection for Jesus will ex- 
pand the soul, and embrace his people with a singleness and depth of 
feeling unknown to the world. 

It is the objection of an infidel writer, that the gospel inculcates 
no such duty as friendship. How false and foolish! A religion 
whose very end and spirit is " charity out of a pure heart " not incul- 
cate friendship! Why should it tell us, " Be friends," after declaring 
us united by the ties of a brotherhood to be perpetuated in heaven ? 

The morning I left, you were all asleep except William, ,who 
yawned, and opened his eyes, and vouchsafed me a drowsy good-by. 
I was glad it was so, as it spared me the pain of another farewell. 

Monday Morning. — So many engagements were waiting for me 
here as pastor, parent, husband, planter, architect, carpenter, mason, 
stone-cutter, correspondent, listener to the garrulity of the present and 
reader of and replier to the absurdities of the absent, quarreller, peace- 
maker, receiver of duns, and what not, that I found myself compelled 
to suspend writing to you after scribbling as far as above. A pleasant 
sabbath yesterday. Preached on the claims of the sabbath and sanc- 
tuary. To my other occupations I have now added that of establish- 
ing a good choir. Yesterday was the first attempt, and it gave life 
and harmony to the whole day. I mention this, because I must beg 
Brother Brantly to exert himself in that matter. He is himself most 
competent, and your church would be a different place if there were 
good singers enough sitting together to give a more compact and 
commanding energy to the music. You have ample material and 
staple in your church; but it wants collection and cultivation. In 
Macon it is simply execrable. Do ask William to give himself to this 
thing in Augusta, and write to Mr. K. about it. Binney has done 
nothing in Savannah so effectually promoting his work as establishing 
a choir. In most of our churches the music seems expressly got up 
to freeze devotion, and defeat both praying and preaching. 

I cannot but hope that God means to bless us here. I see some 
feeling; and when I visit the unconverted, and talk with them (and I 
mean to do it more than ever), I find them anxious and attentive. 
But we are in a miserable little house, — an oven. Even the Pope 
would scarcely put us into another purgatory after two summers' 
frying here. By fall, however, we shall have our new house done. 
Meanwhile I trust God will bless us, and vouchsafe me the glory of 
" seeing him so as I have seen him in the sanctuary." 
Your affectionate brother, 

R. Fuller. 



LETTERS. 227 

Beaufort, S.C., July 16, 1844. 

My deae Sister, — I trust God is still with us here. Yesterday 
a glorious communion sabbath. Besides a great many servants, I 
baptized four most valuable white persons. One of them was my 
brother's wife, — a most noble woman, of commanding character, and 
hitberto a stanch Episcopalian. A letter she wrote to her former 
pastor, stating her convictions, &c, must do good. Another was a 
gentleman of great influence, and hitherto a leader of the young men 
in the whole neighborhood. His case was almost a miracle. Blessed 
be God, too, the Episcopal minister, I am told, preached yesterday on 

baptism! If they will only do this, I can go to sleep. Mrs. Dr. 

(about the most talented woman in Charleston) once sent me word 
that her pastor, Mr. T., in St. Michael's, had gone through a course 
of lectures in favor of infant-baptism, and had convinced her perfectly 
that the Baptists were right. And so will and may prosper all advo- 
cates of error. 

Best, rest, rest! " Return unto thy rest, O my soul! for the Lord 
hath dealt bountifully with thee." I preached on this last night to a 
large assembly, and am only astonished that rest for the soul is not 
more prized in such a world. Away from God, I find nothing but 
disorder in me and around me. And yet we wander from disappoint- 
ment to disappointment, and chase shadow after shadow ; and it is 
only the storm that drives us to our only rest. I find my foolish 
heart seeking repose in friendship, although I know such hopes must 
end in sorrow, gathering flower after flower, while I know earthly 
flowers need only be gathered to wither, and delighting itself in 
human excellence, when a voice from heaven cries, " This is not your 
rest; for it is polluted." "My soul, wait thou only upon God ; for my 
expectation is from him." 

We are all well, and Mrs. Fuller sends much love to you; and 
Bessie longs to see Virginia, and to greet her as a sister in Christ. 
The abolition question is harassing Church and State. Mr. W. is 
miserable because he thought I pronounced slavery a sin, and the 
fanatics on the other side quarrel with me for defending it out of the 
Bible. Well, well, in such a world a man who is in his senses must 
lay his account to be considered crazy. 

Your affectionate brother, 

R. Fuller. 

Beaufort, S.C., March 6, 1844. 
My dear Sister, — I am, I hope, trying to make full proof of my 
ministry. I have resolved this year to visit regularly and frequently, 



228. LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

and pray everywhere with the people. I am satisfied more is to be 
done of this before people will feel a minister, and become what they 
must be, to be either happy here or in eternity. The other morning, 
as the bell was about to ring for sendee, two messages came from 
two persons, begging me not to go to church before seeing them. I 
hastened off. The first case was a most ungodly old man. An abscess 
had suddenly broken, and I found him nearly gone. As I entered, 
he caught my hand, and said, "It is come at last!" I called on his 
companions to kneel; and, while I cried to God, he held me with the 
grasp of one imploring help. He died that afternoon. The other 
case was a young girl whom I had baptized three years before. She 
had been well, seemingly, the night before ; but hemorrhage prostrated 
her. She could only whisper ; but her last words were, as I spoke to 
her of heaven, "There I shall be at rest." Scenes like these are 
needed by me, and I hope these have taught me much. I have no 
more doubt as to eternal things than if they were forever before my 
eyes. Yet can I say, my faith is the " substance of things hoped for." 
How inadequate the every-day influence of those tremendous reali- 
ties ! In the pulpit I feel ever as if all the solemnities of the judgment 
were at hand. Oh, how difficult to live always under the pressure of 
that day ! Grace, grace ! or else our holiest duties would ruin us for- 
ever. Farewell ! 

Your affectionate brother, 

K. Fuller. 

We pause to remark on these letters, that they show traits 
of character which do not always appear, even in a good and 
true minister, in the earlier period of his Christian and minis- 
terial life. At the time they were written, Richard Fuller was 
coming to the front rank of American preachers. Crowds 
were everywhere flocking to his ministry. In that erect 
form, that assured and confident manner, some observers, 
while freely according the presence of great gifts, may have 
questioned the presence of any special grace of humility. 
In these letters we see the man, not as he appears before his 
fellow-men, but as he stands in his own estimation, and 
before his God. 

"I hope I can truly appeal to God, that for some years I have 
prayed for other ministers as earnestly as for myself; and that my 



LETTEBS. 229 

great request has been, and is, that I may be a humble Christian, 
humility and holiness as far transcending all gifts of eloquence as 
the heavens are high above the earth." 

It is a glimpse into that inner life and experience which is 
" hid with Christ in God." 

We notice also the touches of pathos and imagination, 
the susceptibility to every thing beautiful in nature and art, 
all relieved and heightened by that sparkling humor, which, in 
conversation, correspondence, or public address, constituted 
the salient point from which to engage in more serious work. 

We now introduce other letters written at a later period, — 
letters full of gentleness mingled with playfulness, and marked 
by that quick and delicate sympathy, which, in the judgment 
of many, was the secret of his success in the ministry. 

The first is a letter to his daughter Florence : — 

Baltimore, March 5, 1870. 

Miss F. Fuller, Beaufort, S.C. 

My own darling Child, — Tour mother has had, we have all had, 
and have, bad colds; and, as she could not go out, I went to P.'s and 
got the " silver veil," and send it by this mail. Also I must let you 
into a secret. Tour mother says, "Don't let her know it till she 

comes; " but I will. It is about your room. Miss and her sister 

sent your mother a fine picture of me. Another lady sent me a beau- 
tiful painting of a basket of peaches turning over in the orchard. 
Oh ! you can see the very down on their delicious globes. Then I 
bought the sweetest picture of Past and Future. All these I spent 
some time in arranging over your mantel-piece, and now it is glorious. 

Do not annoy yourself about your return. I am wholly mystified 
about S. If she is coming, why not say so ? if not, surely you would 
have made the woods and rocks and seas resonant with your lamenta- 
tions over her perfidiousness. There must be some myth. If she 
forsakes, or thinks of forsaking, you for any one of the other sex, 
then renounce and denounce her forever. 

C. was here yesterday; and, while she was eating some pudding 
at the piano, I told her, that, if S. did not come, I meant to lay 
hold on her. 

All send a world of love to all ; that is, to all except S. , that most 
capricious, cajoling, cabalistic, calculating, caliginous, circuitous, 



230 LIFE OF BICHABD FULLER. 

captious, care-for-nobody, caracoling, careless, categorical, coy, crazy, 
caressing, coaxing, captivating, charming cynosure, who is check- 
mating, countermining, circumventing, coercing, compelling, con- 
trolling, conjuring, conquering, but I hope with no contemplation of 
ever conjugating, or being cozened by, any cousin, clown, or cockney. 
Your mother is better to-day; but her cold, Eichie's, and mine, 
and the weather, make me, as you see, sad, silent, solitary, sullen, 
supercilious, sarcastical, and scurrilous. 
Ever devotedly, 

R. Fuller. 

To the same, when on a visit to Beaufort, S.C. : — 

Baltimoke, Jan. 18, 1870. 

My sweet, d arltng Child, — I have just received your letter. If 
you knew how ravenously we all devour them, you would write twice 
a day, and once at night. It is delightful to turn from my piles of all 
sorts of annoying letters, and to have you just talk to us about people 
we so love. 

You have grown up without any relations, and now there is a new 
revelation of objects having such a hold upon your heart. Here we 
have many dear friends; but I have felt the isolation of a heart 
which is bereft of ties so very dear and precious. 

We miss you dreadfully, but are glad you are in that delicious 
climate, and with those dear relations. 

I am confined by very violent sore throat, which afflicts me because I 
cannot go on with my dear Saviour's work. I like your room better than 
mine, and mean to keep it, — perhaps ; that is, if you stay too long. 

Do write four times a day. Do not wait to compose letters : that 
is wretched. Just scribble off as fast as you talk, or, as that is im- 
possible, exactly as you would talk. No matter about spelling, or 
grammar, or mistakes, or blots, or any thing. 

Ever devotedly, 

R. Fuller. 

Written to his grandson, Richard Kimball, when a little 
boy : — 

At Sea, Aug. 2. 
My dearest Boy, — I wrote your grandmother how I missed you 
when returning from Ralston. You are a first-rate traveller, and 



LETTERS. 231 

take every thing so cheerfully! During this voyage, I at first was 
glad you did not come, for it was rough; but the latter part has been 
very smooth, and I heartily wish you were with me. I think next 
year, if God spares us, you must come on with me. In the first 
place, I wish you to rise above your fears of the sea. I beg you to 
give your heart to Jesus, and to know that he will preserve us 
wherever we are. You went to Ealston; but that fall might have 
killed you. It was more dangerous than many voyages. Then I 
want you to travel with me. It will be good for your mind and body, 
and be good for me. 

A thousand kisses for grandmother, and aunt Florie, and yourself. 
God bless you, my dear grandson, and make you love that Jesus 
who was so dear to your sainted mother, and is so dear to us. 
Your loving grandpapa, 

E. Fuller. 

New York, Sept. 7, 1875. 
My dearest Richard, — My heart longs to see you, and grand- 
mother, and aunt Florie. My prayer day and night is, that, as we 
are one in other things, you may love Jesus, and so we be one in him. 
I beg you to pray for this. 

Baltimore, Sept. 9, 1875. 

My dearest Richard, — You know, next to Jesus, I live for you, 
and your aunt Florie, and grandmother. Whatever gives you happi- 
ness is my happiness ; and my constant prayer is, that you will love 
Jesus, and be a Christian. I wept at parting with you on the boat: 
how if I should part with you in eternity ? 

In New York, if I enjoyed any thing, I was wishing you were 
there. 

The pigeons are doing well. The first things I saw this morning 
were the beautiful straw-colored pair. But poor little Flora died 
last week. She was fat and well, but laid down in the cellar, and 
died of old age. Although very busy, I would go and seek another, 
but think it better to wait till you come to choose one. I hope you 
found the fly-hooks. 

Baltimore, Jan. 2, 1872. 
To the Rev. James B. Taylor, Culpepper, Va. 

My dear Brother, — I have just written to your brother George, 
but must also give some utterance to you, of my profound grief, my 



232 LIFE OF BICHABB FULLEB. 

sense of deep affliction, at the information of your beloved father's 
death. Ever since I identified myself with the Baptists, we have 
been of one heart and one mind. 

You may not have noticed it, but, feeling my need of the Holy 
Spirit whenever I attempted to preach, — as, perhaps, no other ever 
did, — I have always requested him to pray before my sermon. I 
knew his simple, spiritual consecration, and felt stronger when he 
begged God to help me. 

In all things his meek and lowly temper has called forth a spon- 
taneous response in my bosom ; and now I cannot realize that I shall 
see him no more on earth. Yet I know he would say to us, if he 
could speak, "If you loved me you would rejoice, because I have 
gone to the Father." Latterly I have been saddened to see his health 
failing, though his soul appeared to be growing stronger and more 
heavenly. To-night, with the close of one year and the beginning 
of another around me, I feel the admonitions of the hour. Let us 
give ourselves up more unreservedly to Jesus. Pray for me. Your 
father was only a few years older than I am ; yet I am laboring with 
the work of a new church as I never had to work before. 

Love to Helen and all her family, and the brethren. 
Your affectionate brother and friend, 

E. FULLEB. 

White-Sulphur Springs, Va., Aug. 24, 1870. 
To Hibam Woods, Esq., Baltimobe, Md. 

My dear Brother, — How I wish you were here! If I had such 
a sweet place as Woodlawn, I would be loath to leave it too ; but I 
really think you ought to tear yourself away, and run here one sum- 
mer. They are very kind to me here, saying I am their guest, giving 
me a large room on the second floor of the hotel, sending me tickets 
for the baths, and showing me all sorts of attention. 

How good is God! and one part of his mercy is seen in raising 
up friends for us, even among strangers. 

I arrived Friday night, and, Saturday morning, was waited on, and 
requested to preach on Sunday. A great many ministers were here 
before me, and I had a cold : so I put it off till next Sunday. 

But, my dear brother, the place recalls other days. The other day 
the band was playing " Kathleen Mavourneen;" and as those strains 
of love and grief wailed out, and echoed among the mountains, I felt 
as if my heart would break. 

"I remember, I remember" — 



LETTERS. 233 

More than one white cottage reminds me of other days, — families 
broken up, hopes blighted, joys withered, and, worst of all, prayers 
and vows of entire consecration so sadly defeated. 
Yours devotedly, 

R. Fuller. 

North Con-way, N.H., Aug. 6, 1865. 

Hiram Woods, Esq., Baltimore, Md. 

My very dear Brother, — I need not tell you how profound 
and tender are our sympathies with Helen and yourself. Mrs. Fuller 
and myself know, alas ! only too well, how to be touched with a feel- 
ing of your sorrows. I comprehend all the secret reflections and de- 
bates of your heart, the submissive yet mournful complaints of the 
soul, as it says with Job, " Show me wherefore Thou contendest with 
me." It is at such times we especially need a strong faith, that we 
may hear the voice of Jesus saying, "What I do thou knowest not 
now, but thou shalt know hereafter," and, giving our unlimited con- 
fidence to that adorable Eedeemer, may make an entire surrender of 
our wishes and hopes to his will, and cast all our care upon Him who 
careth for us. He cares for me : that is enough. He has purposes 
as to me and mine which will one day be interpreted, and then I 
shall understand his loving-kindness. 

If to pardon and take us to heaven were all, Jesus would not have 
to chasten those whom he loves. But, O my brother! if you feel 
as I do the vileness of your nature, we feel also how deep and con- 
stant a process is needed to conform us to God's rule, and to trans- 
form us into his likeness. "Thou shalt guide me with thy counsel, 
and afterward receive -me to glory." We shall be received into 
glory, only after a life in which God has not only guided us in the 
way everlasting, but, as the passage means, after he has elevated 
us into his purpose, raising our lives up to his will concerning us; 
which will is " our sanctification," our entire consecration to him. 

Pray for me, as I do — we do — for Helen and yourself, that I 
may know what it is to be habitually acquiescent in all the will of 
God, unknown as well as known. Blessed be God, I can say of you, 
"It is well with the father, it is well with the mother, it is well with 
the child." 

The scenery and air are charming here ; but I am pining for some 
Christian fellowship. The only two ministers I have met here are 
not only Unitarians, but pantheists, — infidels, scoffing at every thing 
like inspiration. The sermons I hear from professedly evangelical 
ministers are moral and intellectual essays. I have heard only one 



234 LIFE OF BICHABD FULLER. 

sermon speaking of Christ. It was very simple ; but my heart was 
filled with joy at the mention of that dear, precious name. I feel 
every day, more and more, that my religion is personal faith in a Per- 
son, and love for him. "I know whom I have believed." "Whom, 
having not seen, ye love." The two ministers to whom I refer are 
graduates of Cambridge, and therefore we were drawn to one an- 
other by literary associations ; but how soon I felt that there is a gulf 
between us ! Here, more than ever in my life, I feel how separate 
a Christian is from the world, and how strong the ties which bind 
those who are Christ's to him and to each other. 

Mrs. Fuller and Florence send hearts full of affection and sym- 
pathy to Helen and yourself. Finding some Indians here, I engaged 
them to make two bows with arrows for the boys ; and they will make 
a fruit-basket for Nelly. 

Your devoted brother, 

R. Fuller. 

Mrs. Stewart's, Highland Falls, Orange Co., N.Y., 
Aug. 26, 1875. 

To Charles A. Keyser, Esq., Baltimore, Md. 

My very dear Brother, — I have written to the deacons and 
church to say that I have accepted an invitation to preach in New 
York the first Sunday in September. 

Brother L. P. Bayne was once a deacon of the Seventh Church, and 
has often requested this ; and Mr. Bishop has also desired it. You 
know how invaluable a servant of God Mr. Bishop is, and his noble 
work in the Home Mission Society. The church has always deferred 
the communion till the second Sunday, and I suppose will do so now. 

Next Sunday I have accepted an invitation to preach to the Cadets 
here at West Point. This is their gala week, and the military exer- 
cises are to me very interesting. I have a letter of introduction from 
Senator Harris to the commanding general, but have not delivered it. 
I am happy to find that they have here a tolerable Sunday school. 

I am longing to see you all again. The church and its interests 
are ever first in my heart. I even dream of it. I have letters from 
Albany, and from the widow of one of my dearest friends, whose 
place is the most beautiful on this beautiful river. These letters are 
requests to visit, and we shall probably accept the latter for a day or 
two. If we go, it will be a sad recollection of other days to me, as 
almost every spot will recall conversations with Mr. Kelly. I think 
one sin which in eternity will amaze us is our neglect of personal 
dealings with our friends as to their souls. In the case of Mr. Kelly, 



LETTERS. 235 

though his noble residence was the resort of many ministers, his 
wife wrote me I was the only one who had spoken to him ; and God 
blessed, as he always blesses, the words of loving expostulation. 

I had hoped to see Brother Smith. Do tell him I would have 
written to him; but several of the members have informed me how 
well he preaches, and how pleased all are with him. I dare say he 
is glad to escape answering letters. Do not answer this. Remember 
us to Mrs. Keyser and the family. 

Ever yours, 

R. Fuller. 

~N.B. — Tell Dr. Sears I am sorry we shall miss one so esteemed 
and beloved ; but the House of Refuge will gain a treasure, and this 
must cause us to acquiesce. R. F. 

Sunday Afteknoon, 8th December, 1850. 

To Mr. George W. Norris, Baltimore, Md. 

My dear Brother, — I am just going to the communion, and 
Mrs. Fuller and myself have been talking of you and our dear sister. 
Do send me word from time to time how she is. If I can do any 
thing, let me know. Cheerfully would I walk out to comfort you, 
or be of any service to that noble woman. 

Look up, look up ! All is dark around : but look up ! all is bright 
there. There Jesus sits, and orders all for her good and your good. 
My heart bleeds for your children. I wanted them to come and stay 
with us. 

All the church sympathize with you. All ask, " Have you heard 
how Sister Norris is?" I say, "She is well." I know in whose 
hands she is, and He doeth all things well. 

Farewell! God bless and strengthen and console you, my dear 
brother. 

Your most affectionate pastor and brother, 

R. Fuller. 

I see J. occasionally, and know not how enough to admire her 
nobleness and piety. 

These letters overflow with tenderness and sjTiipatk}*. 
With the members of his own church, it is a beautiful illus- 
tration of what Isaac Tajior calls ' ' the family affection of 
Christianity." Not only in spiritual, but in secular matters, 
he was the friend and counsellor of his flock, his good judg- 



236 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

ment, and experience as a lawyer, eminently fitting Mm for 
this. In the hour of trial and affliction it was the meekness 
and gentleness of Christ. "In all their affliction he was 
afflicted." It was sympathy, too, which often made itself felt 
more in act and manner than by words, which may even dissi- 
pate while they express feeling. When the news came of the 
death of a beloved missionary, Rev. Mr. Kingdom, in Africa, 
it was made the duty of Dr. Fuller to communicate the fact 
to the bereaved widow, then living in Baltimore. He went, 
and, sitting by her, burst into tears as he simply said, " My 
dear brother — your husband — is in heaven." 

Writing once to a tempted member of his flock, he said, 
' ' You can speak to no one who sympathizes with you more 
deeply. I every day feel more and more my own weakness, 
and learn more and more to comprehend and pardon the 
weaknesses of others." 

" When every thing was bright in his own home," writes 
a member of his flock, " we have heard him say, ' My heart 
will break with the sorrows of others.' " 

From overwork and illness in the earlier period of his min- 
istry, he had learned, what many ministers are slow to learn, 
the necessity of guarding his health, — the value of the sana 
mens in sano corpore; so that on principle, and with a view 
to the widest and most effective service for his Master, he 
always took a vacation of about two months in summer. 
This usually extended from the first Sunday in July to the 
first or second in September. 

During this time he was no idle saunterer by the seaside 
or among the mountains : he was building up his plrysical 
strength ; tempering the instrument to be used in the next 
campaign, as a piece of wood is laid aside for a while to be 
hardened and seasoned for some greater strain. But he was 
busy in another line of activity : he was opening mind and 
soul to larger sympathies with nature, — those glimpses of 
truth which God has stamped upon his works, as well as 



LETTERS. 237 

revealed in his word. It was the continued education of 
his faculties hy this contact with the world of nature, — a 
study which was with him, as it ought to be with every one, 
a life-long means of improvement. 

Besides this bracing of his mental and physical being, he 
was, even in his vacation, a close worker in diligent reading, 
and the maturing of his plans for pulpit and pastoral work 
in the winter. Then he was ' ' instant in season and out of 
season ' ' in preaching the glorious gospel to the crowds that 
thronged the watering-places. At Saratoga, at the White 
Sulphur, the notice that Dr. Fuller would preach on Sunday 
would not only attract the immediate residents, but create a 
stir in the whole neighborhood. It was true of him, what 
was characteristic of his great Master, " the common people 
heard him gladly. ' ' The most cultivated and refined felt the 
same interest. Hon. R. C. Winthrop, in a letter alluded to 
before, refers to a sermon he heard from Dr. Fuller once at 
Niagara, and to the impression made on him at its close by 
the introduction of a part of the hymn, — ■ 

" Nearer, niy God, to thee." 
But by the sea, or among the mountains, his church was 
always in his mind and on his heart. From these temporary 
retreats he sent letters to his dear flock, full of practical 
wisdom, and overflowing with solicitude and affection. 

Arnold House, Point Pleasant, N. J., July, 1ST4. 

To the Deacons and Members of the Eutaw-Place Church, 
Baltimore, Md. 
Dearly beloved Brethren and Sisters, — " Grace be unto you, and 
peace, from God our Father, and the Lord Jesus Christ." To tell 
you of my prayers day and night for you would only be to repeat 
assurances which you do not need. I can truly say that the health 
and prosperity of the dear church is far more to me than my life ; or, 
rather, it is my life and supreme joy. I do give thanks at every re- 
membrance of you, — your harmony and zeal and liberality in the 
cause of our adorable Redeemer, your considerateuess and kind- 



238 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

ness and generosity to me and my family. When I think of these 
things, my soul yearns for you all. I bless God for such friendship 
and love. " Blessed be God, even the Father of our Lord Jesus 
Christ, the Father of mercies and the God of all comfort," for our 
mutual love, which is not of the earth, but of heaven and for eterni- 
ty. Pray for me that I may be less unworthy of all your goodness to 
me and mine. 

Here, as everywhere, the Baptists are decorated with that odium 
in which the first Christians gloried. Upon us has descended in un- 
mitigated entail the distinction of being " the sect everywhere spoken 
against." Let us rejoice in being reviled while it is for our fidelity 
to the truth, and let us meet all accusations by overcoming evil with 
good. God so ordered it, that, the first sabbath, two carriages full of 
Episcopalians went with me, and it was the day for communion. On 
our way home the old odiums about baptism and the Slipper were men- 
tioned. After some conversation, they all said, " We thank you for 
your explanation. We now see clearly that the Supper is a church 
ordinance, and that it is no test of love for other Christians, and that 
certainly baptism ought to precede, and not follow it. We see, too, 
that our question as to baptism being spiritual is unbecoming a 
Christian, who obeys, not so much that he may be saved, as because 
he has been saved, and wishes, by obeying, to show his gratitude and 
loyalty to Jesus." I mention all this because we are prone either to 
want decision in speaking the truth, or to assert our views with in- 
tolerance. Above all people, we ought to write upon our banner, 
" Speaking the truth, speaking the truth in love." 

I am happy to hear that our young Brother Smith satisfies fully all 
the promises I made about him. Over and over accept my sincere 
thanks for this arrangement, by which my own health and that of my 
family may be recruited. And let us see the good we do in thus 
bringing one of our students under the influences of such a church, 
of so much experience and kindness, in thus enabling him to return 
to his studies at the seminary. I once heard the objection, that sup- 
plying us might make a novice " rather vain." That it has been and 
will be a recommendation, I know ; but I believe the counsels of the 
elder brethren will rather cure a young man of defects. I rejoice in 
our doing any thing to cheer and encourage those who are too often 
secretly depressed and discouraged. My warm affection to him. 

At this place I spend my mornings studying, that I may meditate 
for your profit. In the afternoon I roam all alone upon the seashore, 
which is often indented by my knees as I speak and plead with Jesus 
for you all, — for you all, not only as a church, but for your families 



LETTERS. 239 

and for you individually, running my thoughts over the pews, and 
recalling you each with the " memory of the heart." 

I trust that the Monday missionary meetings are not neglected. A 
church cannot receive the Saviour's smiles which is not zealous in 
that great cause. I hope, as I suggested, that some day, as late as 
possible in October, has been appointed to make a sort of centennial 
appeal. The debts, and especially that upon the Board, is a mill- 
stone, which must be removed. Above all, let us personally be holy. 
The Saviour says, " Be ye perfect." Let us not evade this first and 
greatest of duties, but let us by the spirit mortify the deeds of the 
body, " that we may live," and that the joy of the Lord may be our 
joy and our strength. Farewell ! 

" Be ye steadfast, unmovable, always abounding in the work of the 
Lord, forasmuch as ye know that your labor is not in vain in the 
Lord." 

Ever your grateful and devoted brother and pastor, 

K. Fuller. 

Point Pleasant, N. J., July 27, 1874. 
To the Deacons and Members of the Eutaw-Place Baptist 
Church, Baltimore, Md. 

Dearly beloved Brethren and Sisters in Christ, — Before and since 
leaving you, I have had several very warm and generous overtures 
from churches in Boston and New York, urging me to preach for them 
as often as possible ; but I have felt it my duty to plead for Jesus in 
this sequestered place. The people in the neighborhood flock to the 
hotel at night from considerable distances, and crowd the parlors, 
entries, piazzas, and windows. But the peculiar character of the audi- 
ences is given by the boarders in the several public-houses, who are 
refined members of fashionable city churches, where I fear the gos- 
pel is not often preached. 

I desire to begin and end all my communications with expressions 
of love and gratitude to a church which collectively has manifested 
so much kindness to me, and every member of which has shown 
such real friendship for me and my family. For this I thank you 
from the depths of my heart: and yet I even more devoutly bless 
God ; for it is his goodness which causes so many, with such different 
characters and feelings, to unite in love to one who feels himself so 
poor and weak, that he wonders how Jesus can use him, and how 
anybody can love him. Yet, if it be true that love produces love, 
you will always have to love me ; for God knows how little I value 
life, or any thing life can give, when compared with your prosperity 



240 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

and happiness. Day and night I cease not to pray for you, that 
you may know each other, and love each other as Christ loves us. 
"That ye love one another as I have loved you.' 1 '' His love for us, 
we all are conscious, is affection for beings loaded with imperfections, 
who often grieve his heart, and are always most unworthy. Let no 
defects in our brethren ever alienate our hearts from them. It is gen- 
erally because we do not know each other that Satan gets an advan- 
tage, and poisons our hearts with any hard thoughts or unloving 
feelings towards a single member in the family to which we belong. 
I say this, because I see everywhere, even among Christians, so much 
envy, jealousy, and want of charity, and am constantly imploring the 
adorable Saviour that the world may say of this dear church, "See 
how these Christians love one another!" He who does not love 
all who love the Saviour is hindering the success of the truth ; and 
how strange if we Baptists are wanting in forbearance, in that charity 
which "beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things," 
which is " kind, envieth not, thinketh no evil " ! For, go where I may, 
I find that we are the " sect everywhere spoken against; " and, if we do 
not stand by each other, who will support us ? Thank God for the 
harmony and peace which has abounded amongst us ! By prayer and 
love let this spirit ever abide with us : so shall all men know that we 
are Christ's disciples, and confess that we have the truth. My soul 
runs over with thankfulness as I think of God' s presence with us this 
year. I beseech each member of the church to resolve to do some- 
thing for the salvation of souls. If there could be in heaven a " star- 
less crown," let none of us appear there with our brows thus dis- 
honored. 

I send this to be read to you at the communion. You all know, 
that, " though absent in body," my spirit is in sweet fellowship with 
you this day. The participation of the material elements could add 
nothing to my identification with you, to my sense of the real, spirit- 
ual presence of the ever-blessed Redeemer in those emblems, and of 
my spiritual communion with you as a church. I ask your special 
prayers for me, that I may be entirely consecrated, body, soul, and 
spirit, to the work of the ministry among you, and that we all may 
have one mind devoted to the truth, and one heart forever glowing 
with love for Jesus and for souls. 

I have been careful to receive information as to your concerns, and 
rejoice to hear of the simplicity and fervor with which my dear young 
brother is preaching Jesus to you. It ought to endear Greenville 
Theological Seminary to us, that all who have been taught there are 
thus faithful and evangelical in proclaiming a crucified Saviour. My 
love to Brother Rogers. 



LETTERS. 241 

" The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the 
communion of the Holy Spirit, be with you all." 

Tour most devoted and grateful friend, brother, and pastor, 

K. Fuller. 

P. S. — The Madison-avenue Church in New York has not been in 
a happy condition for some time, and I have accepted their request 
that I will spend the next sabbath with them. K. F. 

A people thus cherished and remembered by their pastor, in 
his absence as well as in his presence, could not do otherwise 
than recognize in him a precious gift of God to them. Nor 
were the teachers and children of the Sunday school forgotten 
by him in these communications. Messages replete with 
wisdom, and overflowing with tenderness, were sent to them, 
assuring them of his constant prayers for them, of the joy 
and strength which their sympathy afforded him, and of his 
dependence on them as the most constant contributors to 
the growth and usefulness of the church. He loved children. 
The best likeness of him, perhaps, in the expression of the 
face, is the one taken with a little child in his arms. There 
is a naive look, an expression of loving sympathy, that 
relieves the rather stern expression that appears in many of 
his likenesses. 

These letters show, what sermons and addresses cannot to 
the same extent, the hidden springs of feeling, character, 
and life. They reveal the hidings of his power in a life, 
which, with all its busy activities and publichVy, was "hid 
with Christ in Gocl ; ' ' the cultivation and exercise of those 
graces of the Spirit, which, even more than his more shining 
gifts, constitute the real strength and glory of the Christian ; 
the meek and lowly temper, which Rowland Hill paints with 
one of his fine touches as the topmost fruit on the tree of 
the Christian virtues, yet the fruit, which, from its very weight 
and preciousness, bends lowest to the ground. 



242 LIFE OF BICHABD FULLER. 



CHAPTER XXIV. 

EDITORIALS. 

" The most dashing orator I ever heard is the flattest writer I ever read." 

PER CONTRA, the same essayist, Hazlitt, refers to 
Burke, the finest writer of his day, as driving every- 
body out of the House of Commons by his philosophical ora- 
tions. "He was called the Dinner-bell. They went out 
when he began to speak, not, as the beasts out of the ark, 
by twos and by threes, but in droves and scores." The 
trouble with the author of " The Sublime and Beautiful " was 
not his philosophy or good sense, but some deficiency in the 
way of "putting it," as it is phrased, or in giving it, as 
some preachers do their sermons, in too large doses to the 
audience. Oratorical and literary excellence is a rare but 
not impossible combination in the same individual. The 
fier}- harangues of Demosthenes are read to-day with some- 
what of the same interest with which they were heard. 
Robert Hall, in listening to whom the hearts of the people 
were moved " like the trees of the wood," has left writings 
which are among the models in English literature. Possibly 
these are exceptions to the rule ; but they are sufficient to 
show that excellence in one line of things is not incompatible 
with excellence in another. 

Richard Fuller stands in the front rank of American 
preachers ; and while we may not claim for him the same 
pre-eminence as a writer, yet his published works show a 
versatility of talent, a wealth of resources, and a facility of 



EDITORIALS. 243 

expression, that will always more than command respect. At 
the beginning of 18G9 he became an assistant editor of " The 
Religious Herald," a denominational paper of long standing 
and extensive circulation, published in Richmond, Va., by 
two men of high character and usefulness, — Rev. Drs. Jeter 
and Dickinson. Soon after his settlement in Baltimore, he 
was, with others, engaged in the publication of "The True 
Union," — a short-lived but interesting little sheet. But the 
managers deemed it best to abandon this enterprise, and 
unite on "The Herald." Dr. Fuller's acceptance of the 
associate editorship shows at once his appreciation of the 
power of the press, and his desire to avail himself of every 
avenue of increased influence and usefulness. 

Editors of "The Herald." 

Brethren, — I have just received your kind invitation to become 
one of several assistant editors of your valuable journal, and my 
feelings remind me of Paul's counsel to a parent about consenting 
to the marriage of his daughter. By all means, — thus he advises, 
— you had better not; for it will certainly give her much trouble. 
But if the father feel that he ought not to let her "pass the flower 
of her age, and if need be, let him do what he will." You will ob- 
serve, that, in disposing of that little affair, the party most deeply 
interested is not consulted at all ; and so, without any regard to your 
benefit, the reasons for and against my complying with your sug- 
gestion stand thus : Having lived so long in Baltimore, I have come 
to be like the hack in the livery-stable, which everybody knows, and 
which is put into the harness for all sorts of work, and for every- 
body's pleasure. Then, too, my legitimate business as pastor of one 
large church, and as chairman of the building committee of a new 
house, keeps me constantly occupied. I understand what Paul 
means when he speaks of "the care of churches coming upon 
him;" and why should I undertake new work, especially this misera- 
ble business of writing, in which I am always oppressed by a desire 
to do better than I can? 

But, then, I have reached that age at which a minister ought to be 
consecrating every power of mind and body, and every fragment of 
his time, to Jesus. At sixty a man should be in the very prime and 
flower o£ life. At the age of ninty-nine Fontenelle attempted to pick 
up a lady's fan; and, being a little tardy, he apologized by saying, 



244 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

"Alas! madame, I have no longer the vigor- and sprightliness of 
eighty." Every day I am encountering men of the world who belong 
to the generation before me, and whose eager pursuit of business 
will know no thought of abatement. The sight of these votaries of 
Mammon quickens me to fresh activities for Christ; and, if I may 
serve him in your columns, I cannot refuse. Besides, receiving now 
not a large income from the South, but appeal after appeal of the 
most touching kind, there is, to my apprehension, a significancy in the 
other argument of the apostle, which I never knew before. I refer to 
the words, " If need be." Learned commentators differ as to the 
interpretation of this clause ; but your very considerate and judicious 
remark about "of course, paying for the articles," throws a flood of 
light upon the passage, and clears up every obscurity. 

Well, then, "The Herald" is now, as far as editorship is con- 
cerned, to be gotten up as were the original "Memoirs of the Duke 
de Sully." The work was committed to four different writers, each 
of whom did his best in applauding the character and recounting 
the deeds of that nobleman, who, once every week, listened to the 
rehearsals, and shaped and moulded the narratives into the biography 
we now have. And thus it is to be in your enterprise. You inform 
me that my beloved brother, Dr. Ei chard Furman (clarum et venera- 
bile nomen), is to be associated with you in your work; and, whoever 
else may be engaged, one of your contributors, having often to com- 
pose in haste, will be happy to know that all the articles will undergo 
dignified revision and correction at the arm-chair in Richmond. 

Let us enter upon the present year conscious of the difference 
between reality and acting; mind, heart, soul, living for Christ; and 
to every plea for indolence and remissness let us return the answer 
of old Arnold, who, when urged at the age of eighty-five to rest from 
his labors, looked up, and exclaimed, " Shall I not have all eternity 
to rest in ?" 

E. Fuller. 

Baltimoke, Jan. 17, 1869. 

It would make a volume in itself to publish all that Dr. 
Fuller wrote for the papers and magazines, North and South. 
If the public and his friends desire it, this may be done at a 
future time. There are before us airy number of articles on 
a great variety of interesting themes, and all marked by 
vigor of thought, and soundness of judgment. His articles 
on preaching are the criticisms of a master ; his essays on 



EDITORIALS. 245 

missions are the effusions of a heart in full sj-mpatky with 
the noblest of causes ; his visits to his " old Greek friends " 
would quicken the scholarly instinct of every intelligent 
reader ; while the thoughts suggested by the Centennial 
Exhibition show his quickness to read the signs of the times 
in their relations to Christianity. We must be satisfied with 
a few pieces ; and we have selected the following for two 
reasons, — they are among the most thoughtful of his pro- 
ductions, and they will be especially welcome as among his 
latest contributions. Besides, the subject-matter in one 
or two of these essays will always be of transcendent 
interest. 

"A MAN WILL BE HEARD BY MEN." 

"A man ; not a scholar, one whose sole intercourse is with books, 
who carries into the pulpit carefully elaborated essays. People soon 
weary of this erudition. Patrick Henry knew human nature well; 
and a common saying of his used to be, that ' an ounce of mother- 
wit was worth a cartload of larnin'.' i A man;' not a fragment 
of a man, a diseased body, causing every thing to be viewed with 
distempered melancholy; or a diseased mind, which cannot rejoice 
in truth, but is blinded by prejudice; or a hard, selfish heart. 

"A man, a true man, as to whom the elements of real manhood 
are 

1 So mixed in him, that Nature might stand up 
And say to all the world, This is a man,' — 

such a man will be heard by men. The great thing in a preacher is 
to secure earnest attention. The cry we constantly repeat is, ' O 
earth, earth, hear the word of the Lord ! ' but ' how can they hear 
without a preacher ? ' All our studies, visits, labors, are vain, unless 
we are bringing truth to bear on the intellects, consciences, hearts, 
of the people. But it is no easy thing for us, especially if we have 
been with the same congregation for many years, to gain and keep 
their ears every sabbath. The people have become used to our voice, 
manner, habit of presenting the gospel ; and still to be welcome, still 
to have them prefer us to a new set of tones, actions, thoughts, — this 
is a great mercy from God. This favor, however, is not vouchsafed. 
God gives nothing capriciously. It is granted only to those who 
carefully, prayerfully, cultivate the powers confided to them as instru- 



246 LIFE OF EICHABD FULLER. 

merits with which to do the work of the ministry. And the saying 
of Eichter above quoted may suggest a thought or two of great prac- 
tical benefit to us all. 

"And, first, we do not hesitate to apply the remark to the physical 
health; which is a most desirable qualification, if we are to come 
always into our pulpits, and find the pews filled, and filled with an 
audience wide awake. As to ill health, much of it is sinful. Take 
one single pernicious habit among ministers of the gospel, — we refer 
to the use of tobacco, — and very solemn are the reflections forced 
upon us as we recall the number of valuable men who have destroyed 
their nerves and their lives by this sensual indulgence. In his lecture 
a week ago, the most eminent surgeon in Baltimore declared that 
tobacco and whiskey destroy more human lives than all other causes 
put together. But, if a diseased constitution be a misfortune, it is 
one which will greatly hinder a preacher's power. His mind will 
sympathize ; and instead of fresh, cheerful, animating addresses, he 
will look upon every thing with sad eyes, and deliver even ' the glad 
tidings of great joy ' in a minor key. People come to the house of 
God oppressed by sin, care, anxiety. The commission to the pulpit 
is, ' Comfort ye, comfort ye, my people.' A preacher whose system 
is broken down, whose digestion is suffering from the remorse of a 
guilty stomach, is a miserable comforter: he is not a man, has no 
real manhood in him, and people will soon be worn out by him. 

"In the next place, Jean Paul's 'man' is an earnest man. Men 
will hear an earnest man. We have more than once stopped in the 
market to listen to two fish-women thoroughly in for a quarrel, and, 
in their attitudes, their gestures, their explosive outbursts, have 
learned a thing or two not taught in our seminaries. We have, too, 
carefully observed public speakers, and have felt, that, without ear- 
nestness, a man is not a man, any more than a locomotive without 
steam is the glorious engine which thunders along its path, spurning 
the earth, crushing all opposition, and, in its tremendous might, 
sporting with the massiest burthens, which it seizes and hurries for- 
ward as if it were wafting a feather through the air. And, on the 
other hand, we have seen, that, with real earnestness, a man can do 
any thing which is possible to humanity. Energy will make an awk- 
ward speaker graceful, real earnestness being always natural. Energy 
will ennoble thoughts and utterances which would otherwise have 
been homely and common. We hear a great deal about dignity. 
Some pastors are so majestical, that there are no affinities between 
them and their audiences. This is want of common sense and good 
taste, as well as want of piety. Let 'a speaker be thoroughly in 



EDITORIALS. 247 

earnest, and his dignity will take care of itself. Demosthenes some- 
times employs familiar, almost coarse illustrations ; but his ardor and 
vehemence subsidize even these as noble elements in his eloquence. 
The arguments of a truly earnest speaker are logic on fire, converting 
into fuel the sophistries accumulated before it. Such a man will not 
only be heard, but be at once felt as a power. It is said of Ignatius 
Loyola, that, although some of his hearers did not understand a word 
of the language in which he addressed them, yet they hung upon his 
lips, and were moved to tears by his impassioned looks and tones and 
gestures. None of us comprehend the potency of man's will. The 
thunder has its might, and the earthquake and the tempest are strong; 
but they are feeble compared with the force of the human will when 
intensely exerted ; and, in real earnestness, this imperial faculty mas- 
ters, informs, inflames the speaker, beats in his veins, sparkles in his 
eyes, glows in his imagination, causes his heart to burn within him, 
and words, illustrations, appeals, which no study could have amassed, 
to rush from his lips, rousing the most stupid, and carrying conviction 
to the most sceptical. Of Whitefield a ship-builder said, 'I never 
heard a preacher before during whose sermon I could not be drawing 
lines, and forming the model of a vessel ; but, from the moment he 
begins till he stops, I can't do any thing but listen.' Of McCheyne 
a Scotch woman said, ' He preaches as if he is a-dyin' a'most to 
have ye converted;' and men of all classes will listen to such a 
man. 

" Our last and most important element in the real manhood of the 
pulpit is that which was the very essence of the Eedeemer's humanity: 
we of course mean love. The things which God hath prepared in 
the gospel are 'for them that love him.' We have read of a lock, 
composed of rings, which could never be unfastened until the rings 
were so arranged as to spell a certain word. The heart is that cold, 
complicated thing, which will never open until its passions and affec- 
tions become articulated into one word, and that word be Jesus. 
The things of the Spirit ' never entered,' never will enter, into the 
heart of man, until love, like the ' stronger man,' goes in and sheds 
light and liberty where before all had been sin and blindness. And 
if only love, all luminous love, can comprehend the gospel, much 
more will all genius and knowledge fail to make a preacher of that 
gospel, if love for man does not forever agitate the heart. We may 
say of love in a pastor what Paul says of charity. It is strange and 
very full of instruction that this apostle wrote that eulogy. Had 
John, or even James, been employed by the Spirit as the author of 
such a panegyric, we would not have been surprised ; but Paul was 



248 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

the prince of the apostles, as the student and scholar and close 
logician. It is he who exalts love, and declares, what we repeat, 
that, if love be wanting, the most splendid gifts are poor and mean. 
There may be warm fancy; but the religion of fancy is a delusive 
sentimentalism. ^ There may be soaring intelligence: but the theology 
of reason is not a religion; it is a study.; He who reads the works of 
Spinoza and Hegel, and Theodore Parker and Strauss, will detect this 
> as the cause of their infidelity, that, ignoring the heart, they sought 
\ to reach by pure intellectual speculation those truths which are above 
I our reason, and which God has revealed to love. In a word, we have 
known men whose piety and preaching were the ethical system of 
conscience ; but conscience can no more bring an unpardoned sinner 
to live a life of holiness than the compass can propel a ship along her 
ocean path. J ' The love of Christ constraineth us : ' here is the secret 
potency of the pulpit. ) Why, man of God, why these fervent, weep- 
ing prayers and supplications for the prosperity of your work ? The 
love of Christ constraineth me. Why this consecration of all the 
powers of mind and body to such studious researches after truth? 
The love of Christ constraineth me. Why this separation from the 
pleasures of society, this solemnity and earnestness in your inter- 
course with men during the week, and the admonitions, warnings, 
entreaties, tears, in the pulpit on the sabbath ? The love of Christ 
constrains me, compels me, consumes me. As holiness is not so 
much an attribute of God as the glory of all the divine perfections, 
so love must be, not one element in a minister of Christ, but the very 
soul and life of his whole work. And as God is absolute omnipotence 
because he is the absolute essential love, so, the more love, the more 
power, in a preacher. Love is our real inspiration in praying, work- 
ing, pleading, for souls. Love is the only influence which touches 
human nature on every side, and penetrates all its recesses. It makes 
us like Jesus, whose prayers were the beseechings of love; whose 
sermons, expostulations, warnings, weepings, were the accents and 
sobbings of love; whose sufferings and death were the glorification 
of love. It is only love which can make the very hardships of our 
work delightful. Love is wonderful, inexhaustible in resources for 
our work. Love is the magnetism which draws the speaker to the 
people, and the people to the speaker, by a resistless sympathy. In a 
word, if the church and congregation love their pastor, their faces on 
Sunday will be worth more than all the study of the week. He can 
say any thing, every thing. He feels what is his message, and a 
message from a loving heart always awakens echoes in loving 
hearts." 



EDITORIALS. 249 



SUFFERING. — No. 1. 

" Know how sublime a thing it is 
To suffer and be strong." 

"Though somewhat 'declined into the vale of years,' we have, 
until within a few weeks, scarcely known any thing worthy to be 
called 'pain.' Comprehending at this time only too intensely the 
import of that word, we have been, first, praying to God not to spare 
us until we were taught by this stern discipline more of the temper 
of Him who ' was made perfect through suffering ; ' and then we have 
been reflecting upon this great mystery, — a God all love, and a world 
of beings in his immediate control, into whose experience suffering 
enters so largely. So instinctively conscious is our common humani- 
ty of a common inheritance of suffering, that, in all languages, per- 
haps the tenderest word is 'sympathy;' which means, literally, shar- 
ing the sufferings of another. When we open the Bible, we find the 
words 'sorrow,' 'pain,' 'suffering,' on almost every page; the entire 
revelation vouchsafed to man addressing him as ' born to suffering.' 
The Saviour of our race is constantly described as a sufferer ; nor 
could any but ' a man of sorrows ' exert that mysterious attraction 
which ' draws all men ' unto him. And, whether we consult history 
or literature or observation, we find the scrolls written all over with 
lamentation and woe. We are far from affirming that there is more 
suffering than joy in this stage of our being. The whole creation 
was plainly designed by God to confer happiness ; and the signatures 
of his benevolence are upon every organ, every fibre, of our bodies, as 
well as upon every endowment of our minds, consciences, hearts. 
We might have been so constituted, that pain would be inflicted by 
every act necessary to the perpetuation of life ; instead of which, the 
proper indulgence of appetites and passions is a source of gratifica- 
tion. Still, as we have said, history is a record of human suffering. 
The works of genius which at once enlist our profoundest feelings are 
those which present the scenes of human existence as a tragedy; and 
everywhere about us are forms bowed and crushed by disease, racked 
by pain, and minds tortured by anguish, compared with which cor- 
poreal sufferings are light, nay, from which physical pain is often a 
positive relief. No doubt much of human misery is the fruit of 
excessive or depraved passions ; but the inevitable lot of the present 
economy is suffering. Wherever our eyes are turned, we behold 

' The thousand nameless ills 
That one incessant struggle render life 
One scene of toil, of suffering, and of fate.' 



250 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

" And, now, why is this ? How can all this be reconciled with the 
goodness and love of God? To which question our first answer is, 
that the consistency of the divine conduct is no concern of ours. We 
cannot believe in the existence of God without knowing that he is 
good. His benevolence finds its demonstration all around us. The 
heavens declare not only the glory of God, but his goodness, which is 
his glory. Sun, moon, stars, the ever-recurring blessings of the sea- 
sons, the myriad mercies which tremble in every morning's light, and 
are renewed every evening, — all, all, speak to us of God's goodness. 
Indeed, this attribute is an original truth, so written in the very 
structure of our souls, that nothing can efface it, nothing can dim its 
lustre. Behind the cloud we know the sun is still shining; and so, if 
clouds and darkness veil the face of this adorable Being, they cannot 
cause a single doubt as to his character. After long experience, in 
fact, among the prosperous and the afflicted, we do not hesitate to 
say that the murmurers are generally those whose sky is clear ; while 
grateful love glows in cottages where sickness and sorrow have 
melted the heart, and brought it to repose in filial confidence upon 
unerring wisdom and unchanging love. The Christian walks by 
faith ; and faith is the grace which does not ' stagger,' which sustains 
the soul in the midst of providences dark and inscrutable. This is 
what lends such a charm to the Book of Job ; this, that, in the tent 
of the Arabian emir, we are at home with the innermost soul of a 
man bruised by disease and pain of body, with desolation heaped 
upon his hearth and heart, but who still kisses the hand of the Chas- 
tener, still clings with delight to that God and Saviour who is 
revealed to him all the more clearly amidst the noontide blackness 
within and without, and still triumphantly exclaims, ' I know that my 
Kedeemer liveth.' Nor is our assertion verified only in the experi- 
ence of the child of God. We repeat what we have said, that no 
man ever really doubted the goodness of God because providentially 
exposed to suffering. No : the cloud is dark, and its thunderbolts rift 
the oak; but the sun beams on as serenely as when its effulgence 
bathed hill and valley in floods of glory. This is not all. Pain and 
suffering are God's voice, in still, small, but most piercing accents 
reminding us of our apostate and abnormal condition. Familiarity 
dulls, blunts our sensibilities, and we are familiar with death; but, 
when this hideous catastrophe first appalled those who had never 
even heard the word, we can well conceive the strange horror with 
which the few on earth and the multitudes in heaven must have 
exclaimed, 'Death, death, is in the world!' And why is death in the 
world? 'Sin hath entered into the world, and death by sin.' And 



EDITOBIALS. 251 

so disease, pain, all the agonies which shoot along the nerves, and 
thrill and vibrate through the soul, are but reverberations of that 
same fearful truth, 'Sin has entered into the world.' And there is 
one form of suffering which can be explained only by this dismal 
phenomenon. We allude to the pain which infants endure, though 
they ' have never sinned after the similitude of Adam's transgression.' 
With reference to those who have indulged the depravities of our 
nature, the wonder is, that, living in open rebellion against God, they 
still have so many blessings shed down upon them ; but when we see 
an infant, which is innocent even of the thought of evil, stretched on 
a couch of fever, anguish, convulsion, we behold a mystery which 
we can reconcile to our conceptions of infinite love, even of divine 
equity, only by recalling how frightful a thing sin is, and that it is 
merciful to warn us of its malignity, even by such a spectacle. 

" But the true solution of the problem before us, the palpable rea- 
son why pain and suffering enter so largely into our experience, is 
found in their sweet uses as bitter but salutary indispensable medi- 
cines for hearts like ours. The ancients said that the lightning con- 
secrated whatever it struck, and suffering has a ministry known only 
to those who have experienced its blessings. ' Let them that suffer 
according to the will of God commit the keeping of their souls to 
him in well-doing, as unto a faithful Creator.' Suffering, then, 
springs not out of the ground. It is not an accident. We suffer 
' according to the will of God ; ' and ' this is the will of God, even our 
sanctincation.' The Captain of our salvation was made 'perfect 
through suffering,' and through the same unsparing ordeal his sol- 
diers must pass to victory. ' Ought not Christ to have suffered these 
things, and to enter into his glory ? ' Up to that glorious resurrec- 
tion-life his humanity won its lonely way through suffering; and 
what suffering ! O sacred brow pierced with cruel thorns ! O celes- 
tial beauty stained by tears and blood! O form meek, angel-mild, 
lacerated by stripes, nailed to the cross, and expiring through torment! 
O heart broken by anguish ! Before this adorable incarnation of love 
and misery let us kneel, imploring that we may be ' partakers of his 
suffering,' and so enter into that holiness which is our glory now, and 
will be our glory in eternity. It is not by joy, but by suffering, that 
our characters grow into the likeness of Jesus. It is not amidst 
scenes of pleasure, but in the solitary chamber of sickness and lan- 
guishing and acute misery, that selfishness is obliterated; that we 
learn the hardest, the finishing lesson, after which God has nothing 
more to teach lis on earth: we mean entire, unquestioning submis- 
sion. And, this last searching lesson once thoroughly mastered, no 



252 LIFE OF BICHABD FULLER. 

tongue can tell, no imagination can conceive, the peace of God, pass- 
ing all understanding, which keeps the heart and mind, the realizing 
consciousness of the presence and preciousness of Him who slowly 
and tenderly brings us to say, ' Not as I will, but as Thou wilt,' and 
who then, in this very act of perfect surrender of ourselves to God's 
sovereignty, strengthens, elevates, sublimates us to the perfect sov- 
ereignty over all that pride, self-will, and unbelief which so often 
lurk and mutiny in the bosoms of the holiest." 



SUFFERING.— No. 2. 

" Christianity, which is the creed of suffering." 

"The first ordeal through which Job passed was the loss of his 
fortune. The second was the death of his children. Under these 
bereavements, though overwhelmed with grief, yet he utters the lan- 
guage of patient acquiescence, which has become a proverb in every 
house of mourning. It is when pain enters that fearful framework 
the body, and shoots along nerves and fibres, making existence a pro- 
longed misery, that we detect the blemishes and distempers of poor 
humanity, as Job begins to pour out his bitter complaints, to long for 
death, and, while abhorring the temptation to ' curse God,' yet curses 
the hour of his birth. In a former article we beguiled an hour of 
great suffering by setting down a thought or two on suffering. It is a 
subject which deeply concerns us all; for sooner or later each of us 
must taste the heritage of pain, and nothing but familiarity prevents 
our feeling how mysterious a phenomenon in God's providential 
administration is this almost universal diffusion of pain and suffer- 
ing. Natural theology teaches us the wisdom and power of God. 
But as we learn nothing of the moral character of an architect by 
beholding the splendid creations of his genius in some magnificent 
structure, so the universe around us is a glorious temple, in contem- 
plating which we are amazed at the workmanship of divine hands, 
but all the radiant masterpieces of which furnish scarcely any mate- 
rials by which we can form an estimate of the justice, holiness, 
mercy, of the Divine Being. To know the moral character of the 
artist, we must inquire how he employs his endowments in his con- 
duct to those among whom he lives ; and, if we would reach some 
conceptions of God's highest perfections, we must observe how his 
sovereignty, his power, wisdom, and other attributes, deal with a 
world whose population is so entirely controlled by him, that 'the 
very hairs of our heads are all numbered.' And, now, among the 



EDITOBIALS. 253 

providential arrangements of this world is the existence everywhere 
of pain and suffering, — sufferings of the body (for surgery has ex- 
plored the organs chiefly as the source of disease and pain, and shown 
that there is not one of them which is not hourly an apparatus of 
torture to some of the human family), and intense sufferings of the 
mind and heart. In the heyday of youth we heed not this truth; but 
too soon it breaks in mercilessly upon us. That there is suffering at 
all is a portentous phenomenon ; but the vast amount of suffering is 
still a sterner mystery. Why does any pain exist ? Could not the 
wisdom and power of God create beings who should be exempt from 
this dreadful evil ? But the most inscrutable enigma is the extent 
of this calamity: for it is not an exception; it is shared largely by 
all. Fountains of bitterness are opened in every family, in every life, 
every heart. Five hundred years before Christ, Hippocrates gave a 
large catalogue of human diseases. Since then, the dark list has been 
almost infinitely increased; yet every day new diseases are added. 
And into how many human experiences there enters this deeper 
anguish of wounded spirits, of perfidious friendships, of love unre- 
quited or betrayed ! The fact is before us, around us, within us ; and 
it is a problem, which, in all ages and among all people, has been the 
subject of perplexing inquiry. 

" The same instinct which teaches man the existence of a God has 
caused him to ascribe suffering to some superhuman agency ; and as, 
without a revelation, men will make God like unto themselves, in- 
stead of making themselves like unto God, the heathen formed to 
themselves malignant deities who delighted in inflicting vengeance 
upon mortals. The philosophers in Christian lands have found them- 
selves face to face with this seeming anomaly in the providential 
economy of our present life ; and, if we had time, it would be very 
curious and instructive to see in what mazes they are lost, until they 
accept the interpretations of the Bible. ' The world rests on a huge 
tortoise,' said the Indian of old. But on what does the tortoise rest ? 
And just so as to these ingenious speculations which assign causes 
for the existence of so much suffering, but cannot account for these 
causes. Dr. Thomas Brown is at the head of these philosophers, and 
here is a synopsis of his theories : First, diseases are fatal to life. If 
diseases were pleasant, we would not shun them. They are painful 
that we may dread them, and thus avoid death. Now, to all this the 
answer is palpable. For why are there so many diseases ? Why is 
this an economy of diseases ? His second explanation is, that ' there 
will be a quicker disposition to feel for others when we ourselves 
have suffered.' But does God inflict pain that we may sympathize 



254 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

with it ? Why should any suffer ? We rejoice to pass from such 
sophistries to another argument of this amiable philosopher, whose 
views are very superior to those of Paley. In this explanation he 
supposes a father watching over his sick child with the tenderest so- 
licitude, yet ' forcing the child, notwithstanding its cries, to swallow 
some bitter potion.' In such a case we ' would conclude, not that the 
father was cruel, but that the child was to derive benefit from the 
potion he loathed.' We welcome this solution, because it approxi- 
mates the great Christian truth ; because it admits the existence of a 
disease, and regards the present dispensation as a remedial constitu- 
tion, and suffering as an element in this constitution. 

" We say a disease already existing, and a remedy for that disease, 
however nauseous, is a blessing, because it is a remedy ; and this is 
the first inspired solution of the problem before us. The existence 
of moral evil is a gloomy incomprehensibility ; but it is not less a fact 
on that account ; and we feel instinctively that moral evil is worse 
than suffering. On earth, yea, in hell, sin is the only evil. Sorrow, 
pain, suffering, may be overruled, and eonverted into blessings ; but 
sin is essential, unmitigated evil, — an evil, too, which is not ex- 
hausted in this life, but torments the soul in eternity. Now, ' fools 
make a mock at sin.' The world will not realize the prevalence of this 
terrible pestilence : hence affliction and pain to warn us that God is 
dealing with us as a revolted district of his empire ; hence revelation 
proclaims a God who ' is love,' all whose attributes and providences 
are the modifications and arrangements of perfect benevolence, and 
declares that corrections and chastisements are designed to open our 
eyes to our real condition, to bring us to ourselves, that the prodigal 
may return to his father, who pities him, and waits to embrace him. 

" While suffering is thus solemnly monitory, it has a second min- 
istry. It is, beyond a doubt, largely punitive. Upon this point no 
man can decide for his neighbor ; but no man can look to his past 
life without being surprised that he has suffered so little, and without 
tracing much of his unhappiness to his sins. 'Thou rnakest me 
to possess the iniquities of my youth.' Job was ' a perfect man,' and 
indignantly repels the charges made by his friends, that he was pun- 
ished for his wickedness. In the depths of his consciousness, how- 
ever, a voice reminded him of youthful deeds which he felt had 
entailed this legacy of penal suffering upon him. ' Art thou come to 
call my sin to remembrance, and to slay my son ? ' The widow of 
Zarephath was now pious ; but, as she looked upon her dead child, 
conscience connected that bereavement with some secret sins of years 
long gone by. And some of God's children understand too bitterly 



EDITORIALS. 255 

these experiences. A third and most merciful use of sufferings is 
their preventive checks. Whatever God's methods in the government 
of beings without guilt, or with those who are abandoned to perdi- 
tion, it is plain he treats the inhabitants of this planet as the inmates 
of an abode for those who are prisoners, but prisoners of hope. He 
allows a certain freedom, but fences us around with providential 
restraints and penalties. ' I also withheld thee from sinning against 
me.' ' Lo, all these things worketh God oftentimes with man, to 
bring back his soul from the pit.' 

"We will add only that great vindication of God's benevolence in 
permitting so much suffering, which is found in the fact that love has 
a higher object than the mere present gratification of those who are 
dear to us. We use very loose language when we speak of our bodies 
as suffering. All real suffering is in the soul ; and to redeem this soul 
from all evil ; to sanctify it, and transform it into the image of Him, 
who, ' though he were a Son, yet learned obedience by the things 
which he suffered, and was made perfect through suffering;' to 
inbreed and nourish in the soul celestial graces and holy energies ; to 
cause the soul to recover the repose it has lost in the world, to grow 
in the sweetest, tenderest sympathies of our nature, and yet in the 
most triumphant courage and faith and hope, — if pain and suffering 
minister to all this perfection, we do not murmur as we look upon a 
suffering world, we cannot question the goodness of God in his pain- 
ful dispensations. We weep over the sorrows and griefs which make 
this present stage of life a valley of thorns and tears : but the quan- 
tity of our sufferings is the quantity of our capacities, and of the 
victories we shall gain; and in all, through all, we adore the love of 
Him who does not willingly afflict us ; who, as ' the Father of our 
spirits,' chastens us, that 'we might be partakers of his holiness.' " 

ON THE BEACH. 

"Before conversion, nature can awaken not a spiritual emotion; 
but noble, generous, elevating, is even the aesthetic sense of beauty 
and power around and above us. Ever since our heart was changed, 
however, the material creation — earth and sky, tempest and sun- 
shine, the starry night, the orb of day, above all, the ocean near 
which we were born — has called forth reverential sympathy and 
worship. And leaving the crowded inn far away, and walking about 
along this lovely beach, the past, the present, and the future, espe- 
cially 'the time of our departure,' which must be near, have caused 
us to pour out our soul in rekindled faith and hope and joy, and in 



256 LIFE OF BICHABD FULLER. 

delightful communion with the scenery around, and with Him who 
created all these wonderful phenomena to contribute to our happiness 
here, and who will soon take us to that haven to which Jesus is now 
piloting us, and where all shall be purity, peace, love, forever." 

CKOWDING TO WELCOME US. 

" Yesterday our solitary musings and prayers on the beach were 
interrupted by a large party of gay boarders. Suddenly we heard 
them, exclaim, 'Oh, look at that boat!' On turning where they 
pointed, we beheld a small sail-boat emerging like a white-winged 
angel from out the cloudy distance, and careering towards us with 
swelling canvas and streaming banners. She ran in to speaking-dis- 
tance; and then, as if by instinct, she paused, and her passengers 
hailed us with shouts and waving handkerchiefs; while the shore 
resounded with acclamations, and hats and bonnets were flung into 
the air, and kerchiefs and shawls were tossing in the breeze. 

"And is not this, we thought, an emblem of the Christian's soul, 
— the tempest weathered and the ocean crossed, — as it reaches yonder 
blessed shore, and sees the multitude with outstretched arms hailing 
its coming ? Not, however, by strangers will its welcome be rever- 
berated, but by those to whom it is unutterably dear, who rejoiced 
over its conversion, and now are filled with unutterable rapture at its 
triumphant entrance into the everlasting kingdom of our Lord Jesus 
Christ. There, upon those golden heights, wafting their palms, 
stretching out their hands, and shaking the celestial atmosphere with 
loud anthems, shall be ' an innumerable company of angels ' and 
archangels, to whom the redemption of a single soul is more wonder- 
ful than the creation of the universe, and 'the spirits of just men 
made perfect,' — patriarchs, prophets, apostles, martyrs, who shared 
with Jesus the great love and sympathy which drew him from his 
eternal glory to all those depths of sorrow. Nor only these. It is 
impossible that those who leave this planet can dissolve the ties which 
bound them to many here ; and yonder, among the shining throng, 
shall be seen with unutterable transports those once so precious, — 
fathers, mothers, wives, husbands, sisters, brothers, children. 

1 Millions of spiritual creatures walk the earth 
Unseen, both when we wake and when we sleep.' 

" We believe that heaven is not a far-off country, that our friends 
who have gone before us are spiritually nearer than when they were 
imprisoned in earthly frameworks ; and what imagination can con- 
ceive the ecstasies with which they will meet and embrace those once 
so tenderly united to them on earth ? " 



EDITORIALS. 257 



HOME. 

"We cannot tell how others feel; but in our boyhood, when sent 
far from home for education, we used to envy the birds, and say, ' Oh 
for wings to fly home!' and we sympathize deeply with the Swiss 
soldiers, who, on hearing their national air, the ' Eanz des Vaches,' 
felt home-sickness saddening their souls, and causing the bravest to 
desert. 

"Beyond all our thoughts, Jesus selected Baltimore as the place 
of our habitation; and through all eternity we shall bless him for 
casting our lot with such a people, in a city of such generous kind- 
ness, and among brethren and sisters whose affection and munificence 
fill our heart with gratitude. But still we find the light of earlier 
days ever stealing over us ; our recollections wandering often to our 
first home, to the old castellated mansion, to the fields where we 
wandered as a child, to the schoolhouse, to that venerable father 
whose very form drew reverence, to that sainted mother who first 
taught us to lisp our infant prayers, above all, to the old house of 
worship (now in ruins) in which God began to build up in our soul 
that great work, and in which we first began to preach the unsearcha- 
ble riches of Christ to multitudes, almost all of whom have gone to 
that higher home, after which our faith, hope, loving anticipation, 
are tending with ever-growing intensity." 

"When he wrote these tender and thoughtful passages, he 
was entering the edge of the cloud, which, sooner or later, 
wraps its folds about us all. "When Thomas Arnold of Rug- 
by was djing, he said to his son, " My son, thank God for 
me for giving me this pain. I have suffered so little pain in 
my life, that I feel it is very good for me. Now God has 
given it to me, I do so thank him for it ! " (Life by Stan- 
ley.) So with the subject of this sketch. After the critical 
transition period of early manhood, his life was one of great 
physical vigor. With the exception of the occasional feel- 
ing of that wound, as he called it, in the throat and chest, 
his health was even robust. 

But, within a year or two of the end, the shadows began to 
lengthen and thicken around him, — premonitions which, we 
are now persuaded, he both saw and felt. "They were in 



258 LIFE OF BICHABD FULLER. 

the way, going up to Jerusalem, and Jesus went before 
them." He was in this waj^, — the beginning of the end, — 
and Jesus was still before him and with him. 

In the fall and winter of 1875 he was suffering from a 
malignant boil, which was the beginning of the attack, 
which, about a year afterwards, proved fatal. It was at this 
time that a friend sent him Farrar's "Life of Christ," — a 
work, which, for depth of research, wealth of imagination, 
and fervor of spirit, is scarcely, if at all, equalled in this field 
of literature. His mind and heart were all aglow in sym- 
pathy with the book. " Hanna's 'Life,'" he said, "is a 
beautiful poem ; but this is better. I could scarcely put it 
down ; and as I came to the simple, touching description of 
the last sufferings, my heart was too full for utterance." Oh 
mystery of life and suffering and death, dread problem of 
the ages ! as to which we can only adopt the maxim of New- 
ton, — ' ' Some trouble themselves about the origin of evil : 
I am satisfied to know that it exists, and that there is a 
remedy for it in the gospel," — or, better still, the assurance 
of Him who sees the end from the beginning, and says, 
"What I do thou knowest not now, but thou shalt know 
hereafter." 



1861-1865. 259 



CHAPTER XXV. 

1861-1865. 

" They stood aloof, the scars remaining, 
Like cliffs which had been rent asunder." 

THE Bible is no more pledged to any particular form of 
government than to any particular theory of physical 
science. Eightly interpreted, its truths will conduce to 
sound political views, and will be found in harmony with 
every true interpretation of nature ; but it never stops to 
commit itself to any theory either of politics or science, for 
the obvious reason that this is apart from its main design. 
Hence the Bible is accepted by nations holding different 
views of government, and by men the advocates of different 
s}'stems of science. Spiritual truth, like electricitj^, adapts 
itself to and pervades all bodies, while it is identical with 
none. 

From the beginning, some of the best citizens of the 
republic differed as to the principles of its administration, 
especially as to the relations of the States to the General 
Government. Cla} T , Calhoun, and Webster represented in 
a prominent waj T , on account of their commanding talents, 
these differences as to the meaning of the Constitution and 
the best policy of the government ; and } T et they held these 
different views in mutual respect and friendship. Mr. Web- 
ster's eulogy on Calhoun shows the warm personal friend- 
ship between them amid all the conflicts of intellectual 
gladiatorship ; and the controvers}^ between Wayland and 



260 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

Fuller shows the presence of the spirit of Christ in a free 
and fall discussion of some of the most delicate and difficult 
relations of society. 

Now, if, in the sphere of politics and government, men, 
some of whom make no profession of the religion of Christ, 
can differ without the loss of mutual respect, we are warrant- 
ed to expect nothing less from the disciples of that religion 
whose cardinal principle is love. But, alas! " video, probo 
que meliora, deteriora sequor." Extremists at the South 
could not regard an abolitionist as an honest man : extrem- 
ists at the North looked on every slaveholder as nothing less 
than a pirate. During the war, and some time after it, it 
was the same gospel of intolerance. Many at the South 
could not forgive what they regarded as the wanton destruc- 
tion of their rights : many at the North could not look at 
the Southern interpretation of State rights as any thing short 
of the unpardonable sin. 

But a better era has dawned ; and, by mutual concession 
and forbearance, good men of all sections are laying the 
foundation of a union firmer than the first ; because, so far 
as slavery is concerned, the sources of irritation and disin- 
tegration have forever been removed. 

Dr. Fuller's position at the beginning of the war was a 
very critical one. In a border State, in one of the largest 
and most mixed of the border cities, holding intimate rela- 
tions as a man and minister to both sections, his position, as 
the crisis came and the hosts drew apart, was that of a man 
exposed to a cross-fire on the field of battle. 

The Southern Baptist Convention, of which he was a 
member, met, in the spring of 1861, in Savannah. The 
excitement was at its height. Resolutions of sympathy with 
the Confederacy were adopted. Dr. Fuller was one of the 
committee that introduced them. At the same time, he was 
the citizen of a State which had not seceded ; and, at the 
time of the passage of the resolutions, he proposed to con- 



1861-1865. 261 

tinue his relations of allegiance to the United States. This 
was, naturally, the occasion of surprise, and of no little 
excitement and disaffection, especially as he was at the time 
supposed to have been the author of the resolutions. 

A Baltimore correspondent of "The Watchman and Re- 
flector " wrote at the time to this effect : — 

The course pursued by the pastor of another church of this city, 
while attending the Missionary Convention in Georgia, has seriously 
disaffected some of its members, as well as outsiders. It appears he 
was incapable of withstanding the miasmatic influence of a strong 
secession atmosphere, and unfortunately yielded himself entirely 
to its control. Had he but maintained conservative ground there, 
and soothed, rather than sanctioned, the exasperated feelings of the 
dupes of secession, — who imagine it to be the vindication of South- 
ern rights, — he would have exerted a power beneficial to others, and 
honorable to himself. But how weak is poor humanity ! How hard 
to resist the popular current ! How easy to be valorous for a cause 
among its advocates! How much men's zeal is regulated by the lati- 
tude of their locality! How little of the martyr's courage is required 
to be an abolitionist North, or a secessionist South ! Alas ! martyrs 
were of another age: our own is too feeble to produce them. 
Tours, as ever, 

Kos. 
Baltimore, June, 1861. 

The storm was gathering : the passions of men were on 
fire. 

"The Baltimore Clipper" of Ma}', 1861, thus discussed 
Dr. Fuller's position : — 

" We have frequently been asked, as the friends of Eev. Dr. Ful- 
ler, what are his sentiments as to the position and duty of Maryland, 
of which State he is now a citizen. We have been in the habit of 
hearing him ; but as he never allows politics to enter his pulpit, and 
never in any way concerns himself, we believe, with the political 
sentiments of the members of his church or congregation, we could 
gather nothing from his official ministrations. 

" On only one occasion lately he has spoken to his church on this 
subject; and this was about a month ago, when, at a meeting of the 
members (where some expressed an unwillingness to leave their 



262 LIFE OF BICHARD FULLER. 

families at such a season of peril, when it was thought the legisla- 
ture would take measures for secession), he uttered the language 
reported at the time in ' The American,' saying, ' I cannot believe 
that Maryland will attempt any thing so suicidal as secession.' 

" But we have some of Dr. Fuller's writings, and we claim him as 
one of the sincerest lovers of the Union, and one of its warmest 
defenders up to this time; and that now he deplores the calamity 
which has come upon the country, but regards the Union as hope- 
lessly dissolved ; and regarding war as of all things most opposed to 
the gospel, agreeing with the Society of Friends as to the wickedness 
of settling disputes by the sword, he adopts the views of John 
Quincy Adams, that, ' if the bonds of love are destroyed, there had 
better be a peaceful separation.' 

" The papers have lately quoted the report of the Southern Baptist 
Convention. We did not, because that was the action of a religious 
body living in the seceded States. The body represented no political 
sentiment, and only expressed a religious sympathy and confidence 
and good-will. 

" Last November we heard his earnest, imploring entreaties that 
the border States would interpose as mediators, and we then reported 
his patriotic appeals. 

" We differ from the doctor in despairing for a reconstruction of 
the Union; but believing as he does, and regarding war as ruining 
the country, and especially Maryland, we are not surprised that he is 
most earnest in seeking in every proper way to produce a peaceful 
solution of the present awful strifes and conflicts among those who 
ought to be brethren." 

But the " Savannah Resolutions " seemed, in the judgment 
of many, at variance with all this. As the tide of war rolled 
on, the supposed authorship of the famous resolutions ex- 
posed Dr. Fuller not only to prejudice and odium in many 
quarters, but, as the war progressed, to no inconsiderable 
personal peril. The following incident will show this. Two 
detectives called on the Baltimore pastor. Well .dressed, and 
thoroughly disguised, they approached him with an air of 
the profoundest secrecy on the subject of a subscription for 
the outfit, with the best arms and equipment, of a fine band 
of young men, who, they said, were anxious to join the 
Southern army, and were only waiting for this outfit. In an 



1861-1865. 263 

instant, and with keener powers of detection than the spies 
themselves, he penetrated the plot, and in righteous indig- 
nation ordered them out of his house. Confessing their 
duplicity, they begged his pardon, and left. 

Most controversies, it is said, grow out of a misunderstand- 
ing of facts. A sentiment of delicacy and honor, superior 
to the consideration of mere personal safet}^, seemed to forbid 
this explanation on the part of Dr. Fuller during the war, 
and hence the continued misunderstanding ; but in the con- 
vention which met in Baltimore in May, 1868, the explana- 
tion was made, not by Dr. Fuller, but by other Southern 
ministers, in reply to the venerable Dr. Welch, who was 
present by invitation, and who, in his address on the occasion, 
had alluded to the resolutions. 

The following communication soon afterwards appeared in 
" The Herald/' and gives the history of the case. 

THE "SAVANNAH RESOLUTIONS." 

At the late Baptist Convention in Baltimore, Rev. Dr. Welch, 
during some remarks, alluded to the bitter feeling awakened in 1861 
against Rev. Dr. Fuller on account of "his Savannah Resolutions." 
Rev. Dr. Winkler of South Carolina then arose, and stated, "I have 
long desired to say that my brother, Dr. Fuller, magnanimously bore, 
during all the war, the odium and extreme peril of seeming to be the 
author of those resolutions, when he was not. Those portions which 
were so intensely offensive to the North were written by me." Rev. 
A. M. Poindexter then said, " I have long wished for the opportunity 
now afforded to remark, that on our way to Savannah, in a conver- 
sation on the condition of the country, Dr. Fuller stated to me that 
nobody could or should doubt his love for the South ; but that, as a 
Christian, his duty was clear : he would be loyal to Maryland and the 
United-States Government, under which he lived." 

I cannot help expressing my gratification at this disclosure, as I 
am a member of Dr. Fuller's church, and have clung to him with an 
affection and confidence which nothing could shake ; but his course 
in May, 1861, at Savannah, had hitherto been so seemingly inconsist- 
ent as to be a mystery to me, as to many others. 

First, although we all knew his filial love for the South, yet he 



264 LIFE OF BICHABD FULLER. 

never was a " secessionist," but an advocate for the Union under the 
Constitution, and for resistance by the South to all wrongs in the 
Union and under the Constitution. Secondly, he always opposed the 
introduction of politics into religious bodies ; and only by this course, 
and mutual forbearance among the membership, were we saved from 
possible disruption. Thirdly, Dr. Fuller was prominent as an advo- 
cate of peace, conscientiously regarding war as opposed to the entire 
spirit of the religion of Jesus. 

You may judge of the universal surprise, then, when the " Sa- 
vannah Resolutions " were read, with Dr. Fuller's name appended as 
originator and author. Of the odium, persecution, and abuse he 
endured, you cannot be fully aware. He was also exposed to per- 
sonal danger; for Gen. Butler was in command here at the time, and 
all the papers commented upon the report as Dr. Fuller's. " The 
New- York Tribune" said, "Dr. Fuller is the most dangerous rebel 
in Maryland." This was at a period of intense public excitement, 
when the slightest reasons sometimes provoked fearful danger. Noth- 
ing but confidence in the man on behalf of the government and by 
the church preserved him from arrest, and kept some of his once 
firmest members from leaving the church. 

All this while Dr. Fuller was perfectly silent, preaching the gospel, 
and excluding politics from coming near his pulpit and church-meet- 
ings. This was he only heard to say: " Whatever they doubt, nobody 
shall doubt my love for my Southern brethren, with whom I have 
been from my youth a ' companion in tribulation and in the kingdom 
and patience of Jesus Christ ; ' and yet there shall be no disloyalty to 
the government under which I live." This he wrote in a letter to 
" The New- York Examiner " in 1862, in response to a communication 
in that paper. The revelation at the late convention now explains 
all. 

In conversation since the late convention, Dr. Fuller has said, 
" The resolutions were not enough mine to accept honor for them 
where there was honor: they were too much mine to shun any 
danger attending them where there was danger. Therefore, at Sa- 
vannh, I gave honor to whom it was due: here I did not whisper to 
any human being, not even to my wife, that I had opposed the resolu- 
tions ; for in case of my imprisonment, which at one time I hourly 
expected, that would have been pleaded in my behalf, cast the danger 
upon others, and exposed me to the charge of being wanting in cour- 
age, of having revealed the secrets of the committee-room, and of 
being perfidious to the sacred claim of friendship, love, and honor." 

O. 

Baltimore, May, 1868. 



1861-1365. 265 

It was easy for extreme men at the South, ten years before, 
to take exception to his colonization speech, and easy for 
some Northern papers to speak of him as a rebel. They 
were like men, from safe eminences, commenting on the 
struggles of a man shut up in a narrow defile. Dr. Fuller's 
position in Baltimore, with his relations to the two sections, 
was one of peculiar delicacy and difficulty. When the above 
explanation was made in Baltimore, Dr. Jeter, referring to 
it one clay at table, in the course of conversation, turned to 
some of the guests, and said, " The spirit and courage of the 
old Romans have not died out yet." 

But, controversy apart, those eventful years brought out, 
as trial will always bring out, the character of the man and 
Christian. 

"We may add" (says "The Clipper," quoted above), "that on 
the 19th of April, as soon as Dr. Fuller was informed of the tragedy 
going on, he hastened down, and used all his influence to allay the 
deplorable spirit then raging ; and it was for the purpose of preventing 
a recurrence of these fearful scenes that he consented to accompany 
the committee of the Young Men's Christian Association to Washing- 
ton. The doctor, who was educated in Massachusetts, has attended 
the Massachusetts soldiers who were wounded and are at the Union 
Protestant Infirmary." 

That his sympathies were more active and conspicuous on 
the other side was due not only to natural relationships, but 
to the fact of the greater amount of suffering and want being 
at the South. 

Many of his family and friends had been reduced to pov- 
ert}\ From his own means, and the contributions of others 
in response to his appeals, he relieved a great deal of this 
suffering. 

" His letters to me " (writes one of these sufferers) " are business- 
letters, intermixed with sentences of love and sympathy. I can truly 
say, not the slightest request has been slighted ; every letter promptly 
answered, when, as he often wrote, he had pile upon pile of letters to 
answer. He has been like my own dear father in his tender care and 



V 



266 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

love. One instance of this was very touching. The son of Rev. Mr. B. 
was here at the seminary, and had been kind to us. When he was going 
to the convention at Raleigh, I wrote uncle Richard of his kindness, 
and begged him to notice it in some little way, if only by a shake 
of the hand. When young B. returned, he said, ' Your uncle said, 
when he met me, " Why, you are the very man I have been looking 
for! I want you to fill my pulpit next summer."' I can't tell you 
how these little acts touched my heart, even more than his noble 
generosity. When I could hear him preach, I felt equal to any 
emergency; that I had been elevated far above earth, and wished 
often never to return." 

The following money-order appears in behalf of a young 
man, a relative, who was at the time a prisoner at Point 
Lookout : — 

Liverpool, 21 October, 1864. 

M. B. B., Esq., Point Lookout, Md. 

Bear Sir, — In accordance with instructions received from our 
Charleston firm under date 5 September, we hereby authorize you to 
value upon us at sight, for such sums as you may require from time 
to time, to the extent of one hundred pounds sterling (£100). We 
engage to accept such drafts when presented, and to pay them at 
maturity. 

We are, dear sir, yours respectfully, 

Frasek, Tkenholm, & Co. 

In the same spirit he sought and obtained an order from 
the officer in command at Baltimore to visit the sick and 
wounded after the battle of G-ettj^sburg. In graphic and 
touching language he described the scenes that there met his 
eve, and moved his heart, — the ploughed field, the thickly- 
strewn dead, the tainted air, the dreadful carnival of war. 
Then, with a gleam of humor breaking through the gravity 
of the description, he told, in his inimitable wa}', of meeting, 
in that part of the field where the fallen heroes lay thickest, 
a pig, stretched out by their side, laid low by some deadly 
missive that had cut short his glorious career : — 

'." He lay like a warrior taking his rest." 



180 1-1865. 267 

Dr. W. F. Broadus, one of the noblest of Virginia Baptist 
ministers, was brought, soon after the battle of Fredericks- 
burgh, as a prisoner to Washington. Dr. Broadus was a 
minister of eminent ability and great usefulness. He had 
a very thorough knowledge of human nature, with an in- 
exhaustible fund of anecdote and humor. As he was going, 
under escort of a sergeant, to his quarters at the Old 
Capitol, the conceit occurred to him, on which he at once 
acted, of playing the part of a simple-minded countryman. 
He expressed to the sergeant his great delight at meeting 
him, as he supposed that he must be the great Mr. Lincoln, 
of whom he had heard so much. The astonished soldier 
assured him of Iris mistake. u Xo, no," replied his prison- 
er; "you must be Mr. Lincoln: you answer exactly to the 
description I have had of him." The flattered official, on 
their arrival at the Capitol, smilingly told his superiors of 
the simplicity of the countryman ; but the officers saw at a 
glance where the simplicity really was, and laughed most 
heartily at the outwitted sergeant. 

Dr. Broadus and Dr. Fuller were intimate, and frequently 
together in religious meetings. On the occasion of some 
family gathering for prayer at the house of a friend some- 
where in Virginia, Dr. Fuller was reading the account, in 
the Acts, of Paul's shipwreck on his way to Rome. He was 
commenting on the peril of the voyage, increased by the 
absence of mam' modern equipments ; mentioning, by way 
of example, the absence of the compass. Dr. Broadus 
quietly suggested that his brother might be mistaken as to 
the compass. ''How?" gravely asked Dr. Fuller, not a 
little puzzled at the suggestion of the minister. " Surely, 
Broadus, the mariner's compass was not known in Europe 
till the middle ages." — " But," insisted Dr. Broadus, main- 
taining unmoved his gravity, ' ' Luke names the compass 
in this very connection. Does he not say, ' We fetched a 
compass ' ? " As he saw the apt and playful turn of Uie~ 



268 LIFE OF BICHAED FULLER. 

word, Dr. Fuller had to indulge in a good laugh at his 
own embarrassment before he was in proper mood to finish 
the exercises. .,. 

Hearing that his friend Broadus was in prison, Dr. Fuller 
ran over to Washington on a visit to him. "Broadus!" 
he exclaimed, as he was ushered into the presence of the 
prisoner, escorted by one or two officers, — "Broadus! do 
you think the age of miracles has passed ? " — "I am not so 
sure about it," replied his friend. " I would not wonder," 
continued Dr. Fuller, in a tone and with a look that seemed to 
impress the whole Compaq, — "I would not wonder, at this 
moment, to see the foundations of this prison shaken, as the 
dungeon at Philippi was, by an earthquake, and the Lord 
interposing, as he did that night, in behalf of his servant." 
" And he went on," said Dr. Broadus in his account of it, 
" to give such a vivid sketch of the memorable scene in the 
Roman dungeon, — the earthquake, the terror of the jailer, 
the delivery of the prisoners, — that the men who were present 
looked as if they really expected some repetition of that 
miracle." 

The war was over. As the sea, after the passage of a 
c}'clone, is restless for da} T s afterwards, the face of society 
ma3 T be disturbed for half a century by such a commotion. 
Stili, the main difficulty being removed, the full pacification 
of the country is but a question of time. 

With one who pleaded so eloquently for peace before the 
war, it was natural and right that he should reiterate these 
sentiments when the war was over. This was Dr. Fuller's 
course. He made earnest and repeated efforts to alia}' the 
bitterness engendered by strife, to soothe the fretted sense 
of defeat at the South, and to prompt the exercise of kind 
and magnanimous feelings at the North. 

The following letter, suggesting the attendance of Northern 
ministers at the Southern Baptist Convention in Baltimore 
in 18C8, will be read with interest:— . 



1861-1865. 2G9 

Baltimore, April 25, 1867. 
Key. W. W. Everts, D.D., Judge Walker, and Others, Chi- 
cago, III. 

My dear Brethren, — I write this to you and the pastors and breth- 
ren in Chicago, to ask if it would not be a good step, and pleasing to 
Jesus, for the Missionary Union to send messengers to the Southern 
Baptist Convention. 

I write without consulting any one but our adorable Eedeenier: 
I think, however, I have his mind in this matter. If any overture is 
made, it would come gracefully from the Missionary Union, which 
represents the country that has been victorious in the late unhappy 
war. Such a movement would be appreciated by those members of 
the convention who desire love and harmony among Christians ; and 
upon it would rest the smiles of Him who hath said, ' ' Blessed are 
the peacemakers; for they shall be called the children of God." It 
is not to be denied that the differences which led to the late conflict 
were commenced in the churches, and that their cause was a deep 
religious conviction. Now that no further reason for dissension 
exists, does it not become the churches to commence the work of 
healing the wounds which have been inflicted upon our Zion ? We all 
know that politicians will be controlled, not by Christian, nor even by 
patriotic, but by selfish motives. Let us, then, seek to bring to the 
distractions of the country and the church those influences which 
alone can produce true union by infusing the principles of the gos- 
pel — its spirit of peace, forgiveness, love, harmony — into the heart 
of the nation. 

It has been with great difficulty that the missionary fields assumed 
by our Southern churches have been cultivated during the war; and 
now, amidst the deep poverty of the South, the work is most arduous. 
One of the most noble missionaries of the Board was a member of the 
church of which I am pastor; and I think he has the spirit of Mr. 
Judson, as Judson possessed the spirit of Christ. He and others we 
must not desert ; and I am sure the brethren will pray for these la- 
borers in China and in Africa, to which last field our church also 
sent out a devoted colored missionary, now gone to his reward. 

I have but little influence anywhere ; but what God may give me I 
shall ever employ for peace and harmony among our churches. 

"Let all bitterness, and wrath, and anger, and clamor, and evil- 
speaking, be put away from you, with all malice ; and be ye kind one 
to another, tender-hearted, forgiving one another, even as God for 
Christ's sake hath forgiven you. Be ye, therefore, followers of God, 
as dear children; and walk in love, as Christ also hath loved us, 



270 LIFE OF BICHABD FULLER. 

and hath given himself for us an offering and a sacrifice to God for 
a sweet-smelling savor." 

Yery sincerely your brother in the Lord Jesus, 

R. Fullek. 

In May, 1872, the Northern Baptist anniversaries were 
held in Washington, D.C. A marked feature of this meet- 
ing was the presence, and participation in the proceedings, of 
eminent Southern men. Dr. Fuller was invited to address 
the delegates in behalf of the Southern Baptist Theological 
Seminary, then at Greenville, S.C. He began with a ph\y- 
ful allusion to " Yankee enterprise," using the phrase u Yan- 
kee," he said, " in no offensive sense." A German student 
had read and heard so much about "Yankee enterprise," 
that he determined on a trip to this country to see the thing 
for himself ; for he prided himself on no little merit in the 
same line. After visiting and inspecting the country about 
Cape Cod, he was making the tour of the West. On one of 
the Mississippi steamers bound for New Orleans he met one 
of the shrewdest of the shrewd Yankee nation. He culti- 
vated his acquaintance with more than the eagerness of a 
scientific investigator. The} 7 were in the midst of an argu- 
ment, in which each was trying to get ahead of the other in 
keenness of disputation and wit, when an explosion took 
place on the steamer, which, like the two passengers, was 
racing at the time. As the steamer blew up, the two men 
went up with the fragments. 

" Judge of my surprise" (said the German, relating it afterwards), 
" when going up, up, and half conscious that I had reached the 
climax of my ascent, to find my Yankee friend had got ahead of me, 
and was actually coming down. From that moment I gave up the 
thought of competition with such a race ; and on my arrival at New 
Orleans, taking the first steamer that offered, I left for home." 

After this playful introduction, and compliment to his audi- 
ence, he went on to speak of the pleasant memories of the 
old Triennial Convention. He pleaded for the good feeling 



1861-1865. 271 

and fellowship of the past and the fathers on the one ground 
on which he was accustomed to make all his appeals, — the 
love of Jesus. Holding up a paper with a series of reso- 
lutions to this effect, he read them ; and as he concluded, 
and still held aloft the paper, it fluttered before the audience 
like a white banner of peace. The venerable Dr. Neale of 
Boston, seconding the resolutions, walked up to the platform 
and grasped the hand of Fuller. " Behold how good and 
how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in unity ! ' ' 
A statement was then made of the crippled condition of the 
seminar}^ at Greenville. At once a noble subscription was 
offered by one of the delegates. Dr. Fuller called out, 
" Who is it? " when the name of Mr. Howard of Connecti- 
cut was given. " Ah ! " cried the speaker, " there it is, — 
Yankee enterprise and liberality. The Yankee is alwaj r s 
ahead." But there were man}' there as noble and enter- 
prising as he ; and pledge followed pledge, until a handsome 
sum was realized as a substantial and noble testimonial of 
Northern Baptist liberality. 

But his efforts as a peacemaker were not confined to reli- 
gious bodies. They were felt in various directions, — in 
relieving, as we have seen, the sufferings of many who had 
been reduced to poverty by the war, and in removing the 
political disabilities under which some prominent Southern 
men labored. 

Among the officers in command in Charleston Harbor 
during the memorable siege were two young men, relatives 
of Dr. Fuller, — Gens. Rhett and Elliott. Both were distin- 
guished for gallantry and skill. The former, a nephew of the 
celebrated Barnwell Rhett, had received a pardon, largely 
through the intervention of Dr. Fuller. The latter, Gen. 
Elliott, wrote, asking him to intercede in his behalf. He was 
nearly related to the distinguished Bishop Elliott of Georgia, 
and the son of an Episcopal minister who had been brought 
to Christ in the same revival, under the ministry of Daniel 



272 LIFE OF BICHARD FULLER. 

Baker, which led Richard Fuller to the Saviour. Young 
Elliott was an admirable musician, and a most skilful mimic. 
Under cover of night he is said to have once approached the 
Federal guard at the old Beaufort Ferry. Challenged by 
the sentinel, he so perfectly imitated in voice and manner a 
fugitive plantation negro, that, in the dusk of the evening, 
the soldier on duty was completely deceived, and, after a 
brief conversation with the supposed slave, allowed him to 
paddle off. 

At the close- of the war, in common with thousands around 
him, Gen. Elliott was reduced to poverty. He was living in 
a precarious way at Port Roj^al, a poor man, in sight of the 
rich sea-island plantations once owned by his family. Here, 
at Ba} T Point, was the once pleasant summer retreat of the 
dear Beaufort people. Here, in 1839, Richard Fuller wrote 
some of his letters to John England, and caught his ' ' bishop 
fish." Here, at the entrance of Port Royal (which is two 
miles wide at the mouth, and deep enough to admit the lar- 
gest men-of-war at all times of tide) , were two Confederate 
sand-forts on either side, with which a few Beaufort boys 
essayed to keep out the United-States navy under Dupont 
in the fall of 1861. After a gallant but brief resistance 
they retreated overland, and, wading through swamps and 
creeks, reached Beaufort in sad enough plight. Here was 
the noble Broad River, one of the grandest anchorages 
on the coast, looking like an inland sea when in a storm, — 
as the negroes phrased it, "Broad River was putting on 
his ruffled shirt." 

Gen. Elliott was living here in the fall of 1865 ; while 
in command of the naval station was Gen. Gillmore, the 
brave Federal commander who had once confronted him in 
Charleston Harbor. Dr. Fuller wrote Gen. Gillmore on 
the subject of a pardon for his quondam enemy from 
the President. The reply was as prompt as it was mag- 
nanimous : — 



1861-1865. 273 

Hiltost Head, Oct. 25, 1865. 

My dear Dr. Fuller, — I am just returned from the North, and 

find your note of the 7th among piles of other papers claiming my 

attention. You did right to claim my help: do so freely at all times. 

I enclose a letter to the President; and, wishing you immediate 

success, remain 

Very truly and sincerely yours, 

Q. A. Gillmore. 



A PARDON. 

Did any of the readers of " The Times and Witness " ever see one 
of the pardons which are issued by the President to certain classes 
engaged in the late war ? Well, here is one lying before me at the 
present writing. " Ah ! " I hear some one saying: " so he has had to 
go to Washington and to sue out a pardon. I never saw those Geor- 
gia Resolutions. From all I heard, I thought they must have been 
very wicked; but I never supposed they were as bad as that." Stop, 
my friend : the pardon is not for me ; it is for a brave soldier : and, 
if you will pardon the egotism, I Mill tell you how I have come to 
have it. 

Be it known, then, that last May I spent a day in Charleston Har- 
bor. Going there under the auspices of high officials, I was honored 
with attentions to which I had no sort of personal claim. Some 
hours were spent on that celebrated fortress, Sumter, in the defence 
of which two young relatives of mine displayed a heroism absolutely 
astonishing to any one who visits the pile of ruins, and which re- 
ceived the unbounded admiration of Admiral Dahlgren and Gen. 
Gillmore, who commanded the assaults by land and water. One of 
these young men, Gen. Elliott, wrote me some time since, requesting 
me to aid him in procuring his pardon ; informing me that he was at 
Bay Point, supporting himself and family by fishing. " An occupa- 
tion," he added, " not very aristocratical, to be sure, but, you will 
admit, quite in the legitimate apostolical succession." 

Now, here was a case to move a generous soul. Gen. Elliott had 
been sadly bruised at Sumter by the fragments of brick and wood 
which the terrible bombardment sent hurtling in every direction. 
After its surrender he received a wound in North Carolina, -which 
has forever paralyzed his left arm; and here he was, in sight of his 
former rich lands, now cheerfully toiling at the oar and with the line. 
Just across from Bay Point is Hilton Head, then the headquarters 
of Gen. Gillmore. The pardon of Gen. Rhett, the other defender of 



274 LIFE OF BICHABD FULLER. 

Sumter, I obtained last summer. Since that time the President had 
not been so well satisfied with the course of affairs at the South, and 
had ceased to grant this class of pardons. Knowing this, and anxious 
to do any thing which could produce good feelings, I at once wrote to 
Gen. Gillmore, whose magnanimity I knew from personal intercourse, 
stating, that, if he would get into his barge and cross the bay, he 
would see a fisherman's hut, and in that hut a wounded fisherman 
whom he well knew as a foe, and whom I wished him to know still 
better as a friend. I also requested him to take the pardon into his 
hands, as a word from him would remove all difficulties, and his inter- 
position would exert the happiest influence in South Carolina. His 
letter to the President soon came, and the pardon is now before me. 

A very formidable instrument it is, and a very sufficient document. 
What an enormous seal ! — a blood-red crest, with the eagle grasping 
thunderbolts in each talon. But, then, that fair, mitigating "bunch 
of blue ribbons" encircling the seal! Vengeance is bound by clem- 
ency. I look at this emblem of imperial might, and say, — 

" His sceptre shows the force of temporal power, 
The attribute to awe and majesty." 

Then I fix my eyes upon these ribbons, so " darkly, deeply, beauti- 
fully blue" (though, on looking more closely, they are rather pur- 
plish), and I add, — 

" But mercy is above this sceptred sway; 
It is an attribute to God himself : 
And earthly power doth then show likest God's 
"When mercy seasons justice." 

In his admirable message the President gives his reason for requir- 
ing certain classes to seek forgiveness. It is, that prominent and 
influential men may, in the very act of receiving pardon, recognize 
the supremacy of the Constitution of the United States. The pardon 
is to be valid, therefore, only on certain conditions. First, the oath 
of the proclamation of 1865 must be taken; then the party must 
pay all charges for any process commenced against his person or 
property by the government; then the secretary of state must be 
notified in writing that the pardon has been accepted with the terms 
prescribed. These are conditions precedent. The pardon will be 
vacated if the party shall at any time violate any one of two obliga- 
tions which he assumes in receiving the executive clemency: first, 
if he shall in any way countenance slavery; second, if he shall claim 
any property which has been sold under the confiscation laws. Such 
is the pardon; and, beyond all question, there is obtained by these 



1861-1865. 275 

personal negotiations an individual pledge of loyalty and good faith 
which could be ascertained by no general amnesty. 

I regard these acts and all acts of our government with respect and 
reverence ; but how strange it is that there is such eagerness among 
those lately in rebellion to obtain these assurances of grace from an 
earthly ruler, and everywhere so little concern about the great crime 
of our unnatural, horrible revolt against God, and so universal an 
indifference as to the remission of our sins through the amazing pro- 
vision of the gospel ! 

This apathy, this stupidity, presents the masses of mankind in a 
most portentous aspect. It shows how entirely the world is "with- 
out God," — without any recognition of him as the present moral 
Governor, as the future awful Judge, of our race. It proves, too, 
our almost incredible depravity. For what is the late war, with all 
its horrors, compared with that combat which is raging everywhere 
around and within us between the great principles of moral good and 
evil ? Yet men are wholly insensible to this irrepressible and eternal 
conflict. Nay, while visiting with the severest sentence a rebellion 
against human laws, they not only trample under foot those laws 
behind whose inviolability are intrenched the order and happiness of 
the universe, but they are unconscious of their enormous guilt in 
this habitual, systematic defiance of Jehovah. Conscience has been 
so long and deeply drugged, that either by the bold contempt of the 
atheist, or by the degrading theory of the infidel, or through the 
stupefying influence of the passions, or the extenuations of self-love, 
or the unsearchable seductions of worldly customs and maxims, the 
law of God has been virtually abrogated: hence there is such an 
absence of all convictions of guilt, that the omnipotence of the Holy 
Spirit is required to "reprove the world of sin;" and hence there 
is so little interest in the great salvation. Addressing the inmates 
of a prison, a plain old preacher exclaimed, — 

"Ah! when you were going about in your wickedness, indulging 
in your vile lusts, you thought little about Gov. Smith; you didn't 
even know his name : but now you are condemned, and begging for 
pardon, there is nobody like Gov. Smith to you. You all come to me, 
and want to know every thing about him. So with Jesus. Little 
have you cared for him; but, if God's Spirit will only bring your sins 
before you, there will be nobody like Jesus to you then." 

The old man knew what he was saying. The wonderful donation 
of the only-begotten Son does not awaken gratitude and adoration 
because men do not realize their ruin and misery. Let them but 
meditate upon the malignity of sin; let them consider how certainly, 



276 LIFE OF BICHABD FULLEB. 

if God be just or holy, he must punish it; let them recollect how 
dreadful that penalty must be, and that it cannot be exhausted in 
this life, — and their souls will be filled with rapture as they behold the 
astonishing interposition of Divine Wisdom and Love. "The only 
name given under heaven" by which we can be saved will be the 
name engraved indelibly upon their hearts. 

Looking at this earthly pardon, I draw within my contemplations 
the contrasts in that deed of sovereign, distinguishing mercy which 
the Christian has obtained, — mercy absolutely free, unconditional to 
us, — mercy which discharges all the demands of justice; which, 
while it pardons the guilty, proclaims in the most awful accents the 
inviolability of the divine law; which delivers not only from punish- 
ment, but from guilt ; which exalts the believer to a glory transcend- 
ing that of angels, yet humbles him in the dust ; which transfers him 
from the jurisdiction of the law, yet binds him to love and reverence 
and to obey that law. And as I take in these " things which God 
hath prepared for them that love him," as I ponder these mysteries 
and wonders of redeeming grace, I feel, that, if the earth does not 
resound with praises, it is because " the natural man receiveth not 
the things of the Spirit of God ; neither can he know them, because 
they are spiritually discerned." But for this unparalleled blindness, 
all would now join in one harmonious prelude to that anthem which 
shall forever fill the golden atmosphere of glory, to Him " in whom 
we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of sins, 
according to the riches of his grace; wherein he hath abounded 
toward us." 

Philemon. 



EUTAW PLACE. 277 



CHAPTER XXVI. 



EUTAW PLACE. 



" "With my staff I passed over this Jordan, and now I am become two bands." 

Gen. xxxii. 10. 

THE question of church-extension in large cities is one of 
no ordinary difficult} 7 . As with the voyage of a ship 
the contingencies of wind and weather baffle all calculation, 
so, in the establishment of a new church, a thousand unfore- 
seen difficulties will arise, which can only be overcome by 
faith in God and the most unselfish devotion to the enter- 
prise. 

The history of the Eutaw-place Church will illustrate this. 
Soon after the war the movement began to take shape. The 
Seventh Church had been blessed with a large measure of 
prosperhy. The little one had become a thousand, and the 
small one a strong nation. The original number of eighty- 
seven in 1847 had swelled to a membership of some twelve 
hundred souls, — a number too large for the oversight of any 
one minister. 

The conviction having fastened on the minds of some 
members of the church that the hand of God was calling 
them to enter the north-western portion of the city, they 
at once addressed themselves to the work. Though but a 
small minornty actively engaged in the enterprise, it seems 
to have been favorably regarded by the whole church, as it 
had their approval and support throughout. 

On the 7th of December, 1867, the committee was ap- 



278 LIFE OF BICHARD FULLER. 

pointed to take the matter in charge, and provide for the 
erection of a suitable house of worship. Feeling that, in 
matters of this kind, example is better than precept, they 
began the financial part of the work by making large sub- 
scriptions themselves to the funds. 

There was some wealth, of course, in so large a member- 
ship. But estimates of this kind are often exaggerated, 
and the accomplishment of a work involving an outla} T of at 
least a hundred thousand dollars in addition to the ordinary 
work and expenses of the church was a financial scheme 
of no small magnitude. The committee, however, went to 
work. Acting on the offer of Mr. Hiram Woods, to make 
over the title to the lot for the building as soon as a definite 
amount was pledged, they urged the subscriptions until the 
condition was complied with, the lot secured, and the foun- 
dations of their beautiful temple laid. 

Woman, whose hand and heart have ever been ready for 
the work of Christ, lent her sympathy and aid to this work 
throughout ; and the first spadeful of earth in laying the 
foundation was thrown up by her. 

The building, now fairly begun, progressed with the var} r - 
ing fortunes inseparable from enterprises dependent on vol- 
untas* contributions. Possibly the Lord has called for the 
freewill-offerings of his people, not to lessen their difficul- 
ties, but, b}* increasing them, to swell the volume of the final 
blessing. 

The plan of the edifice was furnished by Mr. T. M ? Walter, 
whose genius — illustrated in the building of Girard College, 
Philadelphia, and then in the design and completion of the 
dome of the United-States Capitol — had given him a nation- 
al fame as one of the first architects in the country. Mr. 
Walter and Dr. Fuller were members of the same denomina- 
tion, and warm personal friends. Their love of art brought 
them still nearer. They spent a portion of a summer in a 
tour through New England, inspecting buildings of the most 



EUTAW PLACE. 279 

approved style of architecture. They finally agreed on a 
church in Cambridge, Mass., as the nearest approximation 
to the desired model. How little did young Fuller, when 
walking over those grounds years and years ago as an invalid 
student, dream that he would one day return as a minister of 
Christ to look for the model of a church to be built by him 
as a last testimonial in honor of his God and Saviour ! 

The laying of the corner-stone was an occasion to the 
little band of thanksgiving and jo}~. Tears, no doubt, were 
mingled with their rejoicings, as at the laying of the founda- 
tion of the second temple. But with the Jews it was the 
inferiority of the projected building to the first which caused 
them to weep ; while here, the second edifice being far supe- 
rior to the first in architectural finish, the tears that flowed 
were the expression of that joy, which, in Christian life, is 
always associated with these springs of tenderness and sen- 
sibility. 

In the spring of 1871 the house was read}- for occupation. 
The services of dedication were held on the 2d of April, 
1871. Dr. Fuller officiated in the morning, preaching from 
the text, " But unto the Son he saith, Tlry throne, O God, is 
for ever and ever : a sceptre of righteousness is the sceptre 
of thy kingdom" (Heb. i. 8). In the afternoon the recog- 
nition-services were held, with the ordination of deacons ; the 
pastors of the other Baptist churches assisting. Dr. Fish 
of Newark, N.J., conducted the evening service. Since then 
Fish and Fuller have met in another and better temple. 

On the following Tuesday evening (April 4) a mass meet- 
ing was called to enlarge the subscription-list, and reduce 
the debt, that the ship might go on her way with as little 
driftwood about her as possible. 

During the morning Dr. Fuller had labored hard to increase 
the subscriptions, and so make a good start for the work at 
night. He came home late to dinner that day, with the look 
of a general just from some reconnoissance preparatory to 



280 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

action. " A man in earnest," said he, as he took his seat 
at table, " is a terrible thing. Now for the battle to-night." 
And never did captain order a battle more bravely and skil- 
fully than he ordered the proceedings that night. 

The church was crowded. After devotional exercises, Dr. 
Fuller stated the object of the meeting, and read a list of 
names who had either increased their subscriptions, or made 
new ones that morning. Any little incident connected with 
these subscriptions was introduced with effect. One was the 
subscription of a brother, who, detained at home by sickness, 
had watched with loving eyes the progress of the building 
from his window. As he was known and loved, it was a 
cheering communication, and brought others to the rescue. 
One after another responded with pledges. A German, a 
member of the congregation, rose, and pledged a certain 
amount. "Who is surprised," said the moderator, "that 
the Germans whipped the French in the late war, if they are 
made of stuff like this? I only wish you could all see him " 
(with an allusion, possibly, to his fine physique) . Whereupon 
our friend, who was in the rear of the house, responding to 
the compliment, got up and said, " And you may put down 
my wife for the same amount as myself." And so the work 
went on. 

Some one proposed that the baskets should be carried 
round for the final collection. " Not yet," said the modera- 
tor. "We want twenty names to give fifty dollars each. 
How much," he very innocently asked, "is twenty times 
fifty?" Some mathematical member quickly responded, 
" Why, a thousand." And some who were ready with the 
calculation were ready, too, with the subscription ; and the 
amount was soon pledged. "Now," said the leader, "let 
us pass round the baskets." And a handsome sum was 
collected. 

The figures were then summed up, and the announcement 
made that over fifteen thousand dollars had been secured. 



EUTAW PLACE. 281 

''Now," said Dr. Fuller, "we will sing the Doxology." 
And, with more than usual fervor, the voices of the multitude 
rose in praise and gratitude to ' ' the G iver of every good and 
perfect gift ; " and the benediction was pronounced. The 
liberalit}^ of the people, guided b}^ the zeal and prudence of 
their minister, had placed the financial interests of the church 
in a safe and manageable position. 

As to the choice and settlement of a pastor, there was 
but one feeling. He who had been with them through so 
many eventful years, and had proved himself such a good 
soldier of Jesus Christ, was the one to whom the}' turned for 
leadership. They felt that this new enterprise demanded the 
care and superintendence of one, who, not only hy his great 
ability, but by his intimate acquaintance with the whole field, 
was peculiarly fitted for the work. 

The call was extended ; and the following communications 
will show the spirit and manner in which it was accepted, 
and the change of pastoral relation made : — 

Baltimore, Feb. 22, 1871. 

Beloved Brethren and Sisters — Your seven deacons have 
called, and informed me of your unanimous and earnestly kind action. 
Fearing that my constant co-operation in building the new house 
might have seemed to any of you a reason for selecting me, I charged 
you before God last sabbath to forget me, and to act in view of the 
judgment ; assuring you that such conduct alone could be worthy of 
and pleasing to me, worthy of Christians, and pleasing to Jesus. I 
went further, and ventured to suggest another, a dear friend and 
brother, as your pastor. 

Your action relieves my mind on that point, and requires and de- 
serves a frank and prompt reply from me. No one can comprehend 
the sufferings through which I have passed. They have kept me 
sleepless, praying, weeping, night and day. At one time I have felt 
that I could never tear myself away from the dear Seventh Church, 
the deacons and every member of which have loved me with such 
constancy and considerateness, some of whom have in hours of 
deep sorrow been the stay and support of me and my family. Then 
my heart has yearned to those who have gone to constitute the new 
church; and He who "put a necessity on me to preach the gospel" 



282 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

has shown me that it was my duty to identify myself with that 
small but heroic band, few in numbers, having a considerable debt, 
in a remote situation, and who will have for a while to sustain the 
brunt of the battle. 

After lying on my face, and searching my heart, and crying for 
light, I have resolved to accept your invitation. Even if your new 
house were finished, however, nothing could induce me to dissolve 
my connection with the Seventh Church until they have had full 
time to obtain a pastor. 

It is some consolation that the Seventh Church have all along 
seemed to expect that I would go with the detachment they have sent 
up to a new field; and I can have no doubt that Jesus will soon give 
them " a pastor after his own heart, to feed them with knowledge and 
understanding." 

I bless God that I have one heart to both churches, and that both 
churches have one heart and one mind ; so that, in case of trial or 
need in either, the other will hasten to the succor with all its wisdom, 
sympathy, and support. 

Your affectionate brother in Jesus, 

K. Fuller. 
To the Eutaw-Place Baptist Church. 

When, in the spring of 1871, the pastoral relation between 
Dr. Fuller and the Seventh Church was about to be dissolved, 
the hearts of pastor and people were profoundly stirred. 
There was little or no difference of opinion as to the wisdom 
of the arrangement ; but this did not lessen the trial. The 
following resolutions, passed at a meeting of the Seventh 
Church, April 3, 1871, show the strength of their attachment 
to their pastor, and the sacrifice they made in accepting his 
resignation : — 

WJiereas, almost from the origin of the Seventh Baptist Church 
to the present time, a period of nearly twenty-four years, the Rev. 
Dr. Richard Fuller has been its beloved pastor; and whereas, by 
reason of the great accession of members, and the necessity for another 
house of worship to meet the requirements of the denomination, 
Brother Fuller, under the guidance of the Holy Spirit, has felt it his 
duty, sad as it is, to sunder his pastoral relations with this church, 
and to accept the pastorate of the Eutaw-place Baptist Church : there- 
fore be it 



EUTAW PLACE. 283 

Resolved, That we, the members of the Seventh Baptist Church, 
express our sincere gratitude to our heavenly Father for the prosperi- 
ty, love, and harmony which have attended the ministry of Brother 
Fuller, even through times of perilous national troubles, during which 
his prayers and counsels were ever for peace and brotherly love, and 
proved effective in repressing all bitterness in our midst while dis- 
sensions were disturbing so many other religious communities. 

Resolved, That we, the members of his late charge, fully appreciate 
in Brother Fuller the great qualities of mind and heart which were 
devoted with unfaltering zeal to the work of preaching the gospel, in 
which he determined not to know or teach any thing save Jesus 
Christ and him crucified. 

Resolved, That we hereby express our sorrow for Brother Fuller's 
separation from us ; but yielding to the will of Him who holdeth the 
stars in his hands, and maketh appointments for his servants, we 
hereby accept his resignation as pastor of our church. 

Resolved, That we herewith assure Brother Fuller that our prayers 
and sympathies will go with him, and that we shall ever feel deep 
solicitude for his success and happiness. 

Resolved, That, in parting with our pastor, we feel that we are not 
to lose his fervent prayers and intercessions in our .behalf at the 
throne of heavenly grace, but that, whatever trials or privations 
we may experience hereafter, we shall enjoy that same Christian 
sympathy which to such an eminent degree has always characterized 
his relations with us. 

Resolved, That these proceedings be entered upon the record of 
this church, and a copy thereof be sent to Brother Fuller, and another 
copy be published in " The Beligious Herald." 

By order and in behalf of the Seventh Baptist Church of Baltimore. 

J. Alonzo Gehemann, Clerk. 

The work was fairly inaugurated. Richard Fuller stood 
where Jacob was at Jabbok. " With nry staff I passed over 
this Jordan, and now I am become two bands." Like Jacob, 
he saw the difficulties in the wa}* ; like him, he felt his de- 
pendence upon God, and wrestled with the angel for the 
blessing ; like him, too, he went forth from that interview 
with God, girded with strength for the march and work before 
him. "And He blessed him there." 

It was a new departure for the Baptists of Baltimore. 



284 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

The house, in its architecture and appointments, was on a 
new plan. As you approach it, especially by moonlight, the 
white marble and towering spire look like the new Jerusalem 
coming down from heaven, instead of a structure slowly built 
up from below. As you enter, the simplicity and uniqueness 
of the arrangement arrest the eye. Directly in front, the 
pulpit, with the word and testimony of God ; on the right 
of the pulpit, the white marble baptistery, the true confes- 
sional ; on the left, the organ and choir. The word, the 
ordinances, and the service of song, are thus at once before 
the congregation. 

As long as men differ in taste and character, they will 
differ as to the appointments of worship. Where the ima- 
ginative faculties predominate, men will seek to aid their 
devotional feelings by the embellishments of art and the 
attractions of music, and the Catholic ritual will prevail ; 
where a more spiritual and intellectual view obtains, a too 
elaborate ritual is a hinderance rather than an aid to devotion, 
and the interest will centre around the pra} T ers and hymns 
and sermon, and less in architecture, pictures, and images ; 
while with others still, who overlook the bodily and sensuous 
conditions of humanity, there is a deterioration of all ordi- 
nances and formal worship, and devotion becomes a severe 
abstraction. The first is the Catholic type, the second the 
Protestant, and the third the extreme of Quakerism. There 
is a modicum of truth in each, and the due combination and 
just proportion of all is the ideal of New-Testament worship. 

The question as to the style and character of the music 
was a serious one with the Eutaw-place Church. There can 
be no doubt with serious minds, and on grounds of mere 
taste, as to the desirableness of congregational singing. 
"Let all the people praise thee, O God," is the common 
privilege, which a few singers can no more monopolize than 
they can the pra}'ers or the sermon. The union and out- 
pouring of all hearts and voices in praise are the joy and 



EUTAW PLACE. 285 

inspiration of worship. Visitors at Spurgeon's chapel in 
London report that the impression made is not so much due 
to the power and unction of the preacher as to the mighty, 
swelling volume of praise rolling up from the great congre- 
gation like " the sound of many waters." So, at the com- 
munion season of the church in Beaufort, it seemed, when 
the immense bodj T of colored worshippers joined in the 
hymns, as if the roof would be lifted from the house. But 
it is still a question, whether a well-appointed choir maj T not 
conduce to this end by the strength and impulse of their 
leadership. Still, it was determined at Eutaw Place to limit 
this to a single precentor, aided hy the organ. 

The details of worship, however, though important, are 
but means to the end ; and this end — the growth of the 
spiritual temple, the membership of the church in the faith 
and fellowship of the gospel — Richard Fuller kept before 
him more distinctly than ever in the closing }~ears of his 
ministry. 

As to his preaching, the keynote of his sermons was the 
same at Eutaw Place as at Paca and Saratoga Streets ; the 
same theme, which, from the beginning of his ministry, had 
attracted multitudes every where, — "I determined not to 
know any thing among you save Jesus Christ and him cru- 
cified." As to the mechanical arrangement of his sermons, 
they were more condensed than in his earlier ministrations. 
''•I have to ask," he said somewhat playfully, "to be for- 
given here, not for nry short-comings, but for nry long-com- 
ings." But there was a deeper pathos, a richer experience, 
running like a golden thread through his discourses, — a 
mellowed radiance of the spirit, which, while it had less of 
the lightning-flashes, the fiery eloquence, that characterized 
his earlier ministry, 3~et, like the shining of the autumnal sun, 
was full of tender memories, and suggestive of ripe, glorious 
harvest-fields. O wonderful gleaner ! thou art gone up now 
in the evening-time, with many a sheaf and many a crown r 
to thy Master's presence. 



286 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

The following is a brief record of the work : The original 
number that left the Seventh Church in the spring of 1871, 
a hundred and thirty-one. 

At the close of the first year's work the} 7 reported the 
accession of a hundred and forty-eight souls (a hundred and 
eight b} r letter, and forty b}^ baptism) ; making their member- 
ship two hundred and seventy- nine. 

The second year's report showed an accession of sixty-two ; 
which, after some dismissions, made their number three hun- 
dred and thirty- two. 

The third year was a year of more than ordinary feeling 
and interest in the church. The result was the addition (by 
baptism and letter) of a hundred souls ; making their num- 
ber four hundred and thirty-two. 

The fourth year, according to the law of church growth, 
— which, like the advancing tide, is in waves of unequal 
size, — showed the comparatively small accession of seven ; 
making their number four hundred and thirty-nine. 

The fifth j'ear closed with the accession of thirteen, and a 
membership of four hundred and fifty- two. 

The total contributions during these five years amounted to 
$74,378 ; making an average collection of more than fourteen 
thousand dollars per annum. 

Besides the usual channels of benevolence in education, 
missions, and occasional charities, the Sunday school sup- 
ported a missionaiy in China ; while the sisters of the church, 
by their sewing-circles and visiting committees, labored abun- 
dantly in the gospel, breaking for their Lord, as Mary did, 
the alabaster box, and pouring out its precious contents in 
many a deed of charity. 

The Sunday school, with about fifty teachers and four hun- 
dred scholars, and an average annual contribution of some 
three hundred dollars for missionary purposes, was an inter- 
esting feature of the work, and a most efficient auxiliary of 
the church. 



EUTAW PLACE. 287 

Through these five years of service at Eutaw Place the 
loved and loving pastor was " instant in season and out of 
season." His care for the poor, his sympathy with the 
afflicted, his counsels to the perplexed, his ministrations to 
all, were marked by more than wonted tenderness and zeal. 

For a man of his ability, and abundance of labors, his salary 
was always moderate. This was rather in accordance with 
his own view and wish than from any decision of the church. 
In Beaufort his private income was equal to his support ; so 
that he used the salary either in the employment of an assist- 
ant, or in missionary work among the colored people. But 
the changes brought about by the war, and the increased 
draft upon his reduced income, led his people to insist on 
an increase of salary. They kindly voted this ; and the 
following reply was sent : — 

Baltimore, Jan. 22, 1873. 

Beloved Brethren, — The serious and wide-spread pecuniary 
losses amongst us, and the Christian spirit with which those trials 
were borne, have caused me to be greatly exercised in prayer and 
thanksgiving to God, beseeching him, if it be his will, that these losses 
may be repaired; above all, that to those who have suffered, and to us 
all, these afflictions may be sanctified. 

That at such a time you should have unanimously adopted the 
generous resolution which has so unexpectedly been communicated to 
me fills my heart with gratitude to God and to you all. Once I re- 
joiced to abandon a very lucrative profession, and to preach without 
any salary. I wish I could now do so ; but the war has swept away 
my fortune, and has thrown upon me many who look to me for 
support. 

Still I must not accept your kindness and liberality. Again and 
again I thank you with a full heart; but I am getting on very com- 
fortably as things are. My usefulness is more to me than mines of 
wealth, and I fear it would be impaired if I should comply with your 
large-hearted vote for my benefit. 

Beloved brethren and sisters, you will, I beg, consider this decis- 
ion as final, and be always assured that what I want is not an increase 
of salary, but of our faith and mutual love, and consecration to God; 
for which let us cry clay and night unto Jesus. 

To serve such a church, to live and die for such an adorable God 



288 LIFE OF EICHAED FULLER. 

and Saviour, this is to me — may it be to us all ! — its own " exceeding 
great reward." 

Ever your grateful and most devoted brother and pastor, 

K. Fuller. 
To the Eutaav-Place Baptist Church, Baltimore, Md. 

God gave him the desire of his heart, — an influence for 
good second to that of no minister in Baltimore, and infe- 
rior to that of few that ever lived ; while in the growing con- 
secration of his people, their work of faith, and labor of love, 
he had abundant evidence as to the effectiveness both of his 
prayers and his example. 

But the church insisted on an increase of salary ; and, for 
reasons eminently proper, he withdrew his objection. 

Baltimore, Feb. 1, 1873. 
My dear Brother, — I received some time since your note con- 
veying the unanimous resolution of the church, ''insisting that the 
pastor comply with their former resolution" as to the increase of the 
salary. I have delayed, that I might pray and reflect upon the sub- 
ject ; and I beg you will inform the deacons now, and the church as 
soon as you may think best, that I have no words in which to express 
my sense of all their kindness, and that I thank them for their gen- 
erous act, which I now accept as enabling me to do more good than 
of late I have been able to do. 

Very affectionately in Jesus, 

R. Fuller. 
A. J. Lowndes, Esq. 

He had a large circle of relatives and friends at the South 
who had been impoverished by the war. To some he was 
in the habit of sending regular remittances ; for others he 
met their rents or other expenses ; while his personal con- 
tributions to works of general benevolence were always in a 
large-hearted way. "Ah ! " cried a poor man who came in 
to look at him as he lay prepared for his burial, pointing to 
the beautiful hands, as delicately formed as a woman's, 
" how often have those hands ministered to my necessi- 
ties ! " 

Here is. the open secret of Dr. Fuller's success in the 



EUTAW PLACE. 289 

ministry. It is a mistake to attribute it — his power with 
men, and usefulness in the church — to his commanding 
talents. It was due, under God, fully as much, if not more, 
to his sympathy of spirit, and affectionateness of manner, in 
all his intercourse with his people. This made the beloved 
Kennard of Philadelphia, a man full of " the meekness and 
gentleness of Christ," such a bright and shining light in that 
community ; this made Swartz, the devoted German mission- 
ary on the Malabar coast in the last centuiy, a man of such 
influence among the natives, that, in case of an insurrection, 
the civil authorities found his simple presence of more avail 
than a regiment of soldiers. 

The following letters to the officers and members of the 
church breathe so much of this spirit, that they will furnish 
the best sequel to this chapter : — 

Ralston, Pjenn., July 29, 1871. 
The Deacons and Members of the Eutaw-Place Baptist 
Church, Baltimore, Md. 

Beloved Brethren and Sisters, — It has caused my soul to rise in 
gratitude to God, and to glow with, if possible, fresh love to you, 
when I have heard of your steadfastness in the service and work of 
the Lord. " For though I be absent in the flesh, yet am I with you 
in the spirit, joying and beholding your order, and the steadfast- 
ness of your faith in Christ. As ye have therefore received Christ 
Jesus the Lord, so walk ye in him ; rooted and built up in him, and 
stablished in the faith as ye have been taught, abounding therein 
with thanksgiving." 

While my heart only draws a lengthening chain when I leave you, 
yet I feel that it is best that I should be away, and for two reasons. 
First, physically and mentally it is best that a pastor should have a 
respite from the severe pastoral work of the city. In the next place, 
I have leisure to devote myself to close study of the word of God, 
that I may he more thoroughly furnished to be a teacher of the glori- 
ous gospel ; and I regard myself as a missionary sent by you to preach 
the gospel in destitute places. I am preaching Jesus, not only on the 
sabbath, but during the week, — sometimes in the village of Canton, 
to audiences that cannot get into the church for the crowd; some- 
times in the parlors of different hotels, to hearers less numerous, 



290 LIFE OF BICHABD FULLER. 

but comprised of every class of people, some of them of great in- 
fluence at home, and many of them men and women who have not 
entered a church for a great while, and others corrupted by every 
form of heresy or infidelity. Pray for me, that God's word may 
" have free course and be glorified." 

I have never so yearned to get back to my work among you as I 
do now. This new enterprise has, I hope, reconverted us all. It 
ought to inspire a new spirit of zeal and self-sacrifice, and earnest 
work for Jesus. Gratitude ought to stir us up afresh to toil and pray, 
and devote ourselves to our adorable God and Saviour. For " what 
hath God wrought!" Such a house erected to his glory, with so 
small an encumbrance, and still more the spiritual increase and 
strength vouchsafed us, — for these things what shall we render unto 
the Lord ? Then our location should cause us to begin to toil and 
pray as we never have done. We hold truths which can never be 
popular. We cannot relax our views of God's truth. We must be 
faithful, though only a handful were with us; and we are in the 
midst of those who use their influence against us. Blessed be God 
for the success vouchsafed us! Let it keep us humble and watchful. 
Other churches may grow because they hold doctrines and practices 
which suit all denominations : our prosperity and increase must be 
the work of the Holy Spirit. " The Lord added to the church daily 
such as should be saved." 

For myself and you, beloved brethren and sisters, I am longing 
and praying for a higher degree of piety. I cease not to pray that we 
may grow up into a more ample and spiritual understanding of that 
word of grace which is able to build us up, and to give us " an inherit- 
ance among all them which are sanctified." My supplications are ever 
on high, that we may forget the things that are behind, and " press 
toward the mark for the prize of our high calling in Christ Jesus;" 
that we may be more holy in heart and life ; that we may fulfil the 
new commandment, loving one another, even as Christ hath loved us. 
I beseech you not to let any envy, or jealousy, or ambition, or unkind 
suspicious thoughts, find lodgement in your bosoms; that ye be " kind 
one to another, tender-hearted, forgiving one another, even as God 
for Christ's sake hath forgiven you." So far, there has been no death 
in the church; and for this I lift up my heart in praise. Two have 
been ill, and my warmest solicitudes were awakened in their behalf; 
but I rejoice in their gradual recovery. One request I must urge : 
it is that the brethren will all overcome their timidity, and take part 
in the Wednesday-night meetings. It pains and afflicts me that 
brethren who can speak so well in conversation on subjects which 



BUT AW PLACE. 291 

interest them should decline to open their mouths in prayer and 
exhortation. I beg you, beloved brethren, let this not be with any 
of you. Only begin, and you will soon feel the blessing in your own 
heart. The way to increase our faith is to use what we have, and 
the only method by which we enjoy the prayer-meetings properly is 
to participate in conducting them. " To him that hath" (improves 
what he has) " shall be given; but from him that hath not " (does not 
improve what he has) " shall be taken away even that which he has." 

I need not ask the ladies to be fervent, faithful in their prayer- 
meetings on Friday night. I feel always the influence of these blessed 
meetings. 

I trust the Sunday school is flourishing. I know the season is try- 
ing ; but God be with us in this great work. 

Now, brethren and sisters, farewell. The God of grace and glory 
be with you all in the church, in your dear families, in your temporal 
and spiritual interests. 

Ever your most grateful and devoted pastor and brother in Jesus, 

E. Fuller. 

Point Pleasant, N. J., July 31, 1876. 
To the Deacons and Members of the Eutaw-Place Baptist 
Church, Baltimore, Md. 

Beloved Brethren and Sisters, — The next Sunday will be your first 
communion sabbath since I left you ; and I need not say, what your 
hearts tell you, that, though absent in body, I shall be, as I am always, 
present with you in spirit. 

First let me repeat the language of Paul, which he never uttered 
with greater warmth than I do, and say, " I thank my God on every 
remembrance of you." I have a thousand blessings to thank him 
for ; but that which glows most ardently in my bosom is, that he has 
made me the pastor of such a church, — of men and women who love 
Jesus, and love me for his sake, bearing with all my weaknesses, 
attentive to the happiness of myself and family, and upholding me 
by their prayers and co-operation. As each year passes, I feel that 
"the time of my departure" approaches; but while life lasts, while 
a pulse beats in my veins, my privilege and joy must be to love you, 
to watch over you all, and day and night to be imploring for you and 
your dear families the richest mercies. I thank you for the arrange- 
ment by which your pastor may devote a few weeks to rest from hard 
pastoral work, and to preaching to the perishing in other places. 

Meanwhile, I have leisure to study and lay up knowledge for you, 
and on Sunday I am your missionary to multitudes. Sabbath week 1 



292 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

accepted an invitation to Ocean Grove. They had written to me two 
months ago, and now sent a delegation. The day was stormy, and 
the rain pouring in torrents : yet some three or f onr thousand crowd- 
ed the benches under a vast canopy in the grove ; and many brought 
camp-stools, and sat under umbrellas. Some fifty ministers, of all 
denominations, were on the stand. The music of that vast audience 
resembled " the voice of many waters," and all the services were 
most tender and solemn. Some time ago I wrote editorials in " The 
Herald" in favor of short sermons; but, with such an audience, I 
forgot all rules, and preached an hour and a quarter, at the close the 
ministers and people crying out, " G-o on, go on! " 

Wherever I go, my heart is turning to you. In praying with any 
multitude, I am still praying for you. In preaching to any crowd, I 
am preaching to you. If such be the imperishable nature of Christian 
affection now, what will be its ardor and raptures in heaven, where 
no sin, no discord, can ever enter, and where we shall be forever with 
Jesus, and with all who have loved him, among whom are so many 
united to us by the tenderest ties ! 

And now farewell. My wife and daughter join in sincerest love to 
you all. Pray for me, as I ever am praying for you and your families. 

" The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of G-od our Father, 
and the communion of the Holy Spirit, be with you all evermore." 
Tour devoted and most grateful brother and pastor, 

R. Fuller. 

These letters show that his heart was as warm and tender 
in its sensibilities as his mind was fruitful in resources. 
The} T show, too, that his summer vacation, which he conscien- 
tiously took, was no idle holiday, but a season of continued 
though varied activity. Wherever, during these months, 
his tent was pitched, — by the seashore, or on the mountain, 
— the people thronged to hear him ; so that he seldom had 
any " dumb sabbaths " to complain of, as dear old Rutherford 
calls his in his exile from his flock at Aberdeen. 

Nor were the little children forgotten by one in whom the 
"glorified childhood," as a German writer calls the Chris- 
tian state, was fast ripening for heaven. 

Dear Brethren, Sisters, and Children, — You know how 
dear you all are to me, and that my whole heart is with you; but 



EUTAW PLACE. 293 

duties called me out this morning, and I am now too unwell to come 
to your happy festival. 

This is my loss ; but you must all be happy and merry. I am some- 
what resigned, because I know the dear children do not want any 
speaking. They want the sugar-candy and cake, and the magic 
lantern with which Mr. Flippo will delight them. 

God bless you all! 

Your devoted pastor, 

E. Fuller. 

To the Sunday School. 

But there is a letter of still sweeter spirit, — a letter so full 
of good advice to teachers, and breathing such sjmpathy 
with them in their self-denying labors, that it were well if it 
could be read by every Sunday-school worker in the land. 

Point Pleasant, BT. J., July 26, 1875. 
The Superhstendent, Teachers, astd Scholars of the Sun- 
day School, Eutaw-Place Baptist Church. 

Beloved Brethren, Scholars, and Children, — I have written to the 
church; but I must also send a line to tell you how dear you all are 
to me, and, I trust, to Jesus. If you look around, you will see that 
almost all the active spiritual members of every evangelical church 
were trained up under the auspices of the Sunday school. And this 
will be increasingly true every year. For my own part, I look mainly 
to you for constant recruits to the church. 

O dear children ! now, while your hearts are not absorbed by the 
world, and your consciences are yet tender, give yourselves wholly to 
Jesus, who gave himself wholly for you. Nor is the school a greater 
blessing to the taught than it is to the teacher. If I travel, I can 
almost know those who are teachers by their earnest interest in the 
cause of Jesus. Here I grieve to see the sabbath neglected, and re- 
ligion ahnost ignored, by almost all the young men and women; and I 
know too well that the Sunday school is nothing to them. 

If I had one of our teachers of either sex here, I would observe the 
great difference. It is just so wherever I preach. The stupid and 
sleepy are never among those who teach the truth because they love 
it, and love it because they teach it. 

If at times any of you are disheartened, remember it is so with 
ministers. It was so with the prophets ; and even the Teacher from 
heaven wept over the seeming failure of his sermons and miracles. 



294 LIFE OF BICHABD FULLER. 

But nothing done for Christ and for souls can ever be in vain. " Let 
us not be weary in well-doing ; for in due season we shall reap, if we 
faint not." 

Farewell. I am longing to see you, and to hear your dear voices. 
Do give my love to all at your homes. Eemember me to our dear 
leader and organist, who contributes so much to the church and the 
school. 

Tour devoted pastor, fellow-teacher, and fellow-learner, 

K. Fuxlee. 

In the history of the Baptist Missionary Union it was at 
one time a serious question, whether, in the work of missions, 
greater stress should be laid on the preaching of the Word, or 
on the slower methods of education. In the life of every 
earnest pastor this question receives a practical solution. 
Richard Fuller, above most men and ministers, followed the 
rule, " I determined not to know any thing among you save 
Jesus Christ and him crucified." At the same time, to use 
his own language, he looked chiefly to the schools for recruits 
for the church. Not by the undue prominence of any one 
method, but by the judicious use and combination of all pos- 
sible agencies, the work must go on both at home and abroad. 

And so he went in and out before his people. The two 
churches in Baltimore that he had planted and built up loved 
him with equal devotion. The Seventh Church, with its 
honored minister Dr. Brantly, the son of the instructor of 
his youth, was almost if not quite as dear to him as the flock 
at Eutaw Place. They were all, ministers and people, of one 
heart and mind, taking sweet counsel together, and often 
mingling their tears, prayers, and exhortations in joint pro- 
tracted meetings. 

"With my staff," he could sa}', "I passed over this 
Jordan, and now I am become two bands." These two 
churches, with their large and loving membership, their treas- 
ures of faith and piety and love, are the " living epistles " 
that bear his name engrossed in their hearts and memories. 
AssjTian marbles and Eg}-ptian monoliths have been dug up, 



EUTAW PLACE. 295 

with strange devices carved on them, — characters by which, 
with some blind instinct of immortality, the builders have 
sought to perpetuate their names, and rescue them from 
oblivion. But these inscriptions must vanish at last under 
the law of change and decay that attaches to the proudest 
monuments of human genius. But the faith and fellowship 
of the gospel can know no such change : its records are im- 
perishable. The name of the humblest Christian is a name 
11 written in heaven." And the dear name inscribed on the 
marble tablet in the Eutaw-place Church is but the earthly 
side of that heavenly record of life and immortality : for 
' ; they that be wise shall shine as the brightness of the fir- 
mament ; and they that turn many to righteousness, as the 
stars for ever and ever." 



296 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 



CHAPTER XXVII. 

THE TURN. 

The fairest noon must turn to night, 

The swiftest spring-tide ebb as fast, 
And leave us wondering at the sight 

That things so bright should fade at last. 

Qi OME of the grandest achievements in history have been 
^ won by men past the meridian of life. Milton was fiffcy- 
four when he wrote the immortal " Paradise Lost." Von 
Moltke was seventy when he planned and won his great cam- 
paigns. D' Israeli, whose statesmanship was never more 
brilliant or successful than in the late Berlin Congress, is 
even older. And Richard Fuller, as a good soldier of Jesus 
Christ, was as active and useful during the last decade of 
his life as at any previous period. Like Moses, "his eye 
was not dim, nor his natural force abated." His figure was 
as erect, his eye as bright, his conversation as cheerful, his 
preaching as effective, as ever. His most intimate friends 
could see no waning of his intellectual powers, while all were 
conscious of an increasing roundness and symmetry of Chris- 
tian character. 

But it was the last campaign of the soldier of the cross. 
During the winter of 1875 he was attacked 03^ an inflamma- 
tion on his right shoulder. He struggled against the incon- 
venience and pain for some time, preaching, visiting, and 
writing, as usual ; like a captain, who, when wounded, refuses 
to be carried out of the fight. His plrysician at last said to 
him, " Dr. Fuller, you must stay at home; for, remember, 
these things are sometimes fatal." 



THE TURN. 297 

For about two months he was kept at home, suffering great 
pain in the development of the disease, and under the treat- 
ment necessary to subdue it. His great solicitude was still 
about his church, the supply of his pulpit, and the general 
welfare of his flock. It was a touching exhibition of the 
spirit of Him, who, " having loved his own that were in the 
world, loved them to the end." By letters read at the com- 
munion season, by constant communication with his deacons, 
he maintained the same affectionate oversight of the church 
as characterized his ministry from the beginning. 

How he panted for the raptures and triumphs of the pulpit ! 
As the war-horse hears the sound of the battle, the peal of 
the trumpet, and the charge of the squadrons, but is kept 
back from the fray, he heard from his study the chime of the 
sabbath-bells ; and his soul longed for the assemblies of the 
saints, and the holy ardors of the pulpit. But God had put 
his finger upon him, and whispered, " Be still." 

In solitude and suffering he was to learn lessons which 
cannot be learned even amid the holiest activities of Christian 
life. From their greater prominence, we are in danger of 
looking too exclusively at the more active side, the more 
positive features, of our religion, — the works of charity, the 
deeds and triumphs of faith. But the more passive graces 
— the lowly temper of Jesus, " the ornament of a meek and 
quiet spirit " — are, perhaps, the crowning glories of Christian 
character, as the " meekness and gentleness of Christ " are 
possibly the most glorious perfections of the Son of God 
himself ; and the school of solitude and suffering is probably 
the only school for the cultivation of this more heavenward 
side of the new creature. 

Richard Fuller, by nature and training, was a man of 
action. As a lawyer, he was at home in the excitement of 
debate ; as a controversialist, he was a master with those 
weapons ; as a son of thunder in the pulpit, he swept every 
thing before him with the fire of his logic and the earnestness 



298 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER, 

of his deliver}^. Such minds are often tempered with great 
gentleness, as was the association in his case ; but they 
need, too, the peculiar discipline of suffering, which God has 
ordained, to give the last and most perfect touches to the 
work of grace, and preparation for heaven. Our life, as the 
saintly Erskine used to insist, is not so much a trial as an 
education. Trial, with a being like man, is but an exhibition 
of weakness, and a precursor of failure and disaster. But 
education in the school of Christ is the training of a soul, 
which, though proved to be defective on every trial, is yet 
developed by this very process into " the stature of the per- 
fect man in Christ Jesus." 

Richard Fuller was not a stranger to this school ; but, at 
the close of a life of unusual outward activity, he was to be a 
closer student here, and his great soul entered with seeming 
alacrity into the plan and providence of his heavenly Father. 
" The cup which my Father hath given me, shall I not drink 
it?" With what emphasis did he repeat the words, "And 
what shall I say ? Father, save me from this hour ; ' ' cor- 
recting the mistake, into which many fall, of making this a 
question, and adding that Jesus, as man, really desired ex- 
emption here from suffering, but at once added, in sweet 
acquiescence in his Father's will, " but for this cause came I 
unto this hour." 

He loved to see the hand of God in every thing. Refer- 
ring at this time to Farrar's "Life of Christ," which a 
friend had sent him, he said, " It has been a great blessing 
to me." Baxter said of Rutherford's Letters, " Off the 
Bible, such a book the world never saw." So, in this 
department of Christian literature, we may say, off and 
next to the inspired biography, give us Farrar's "Life." 
Its stores of learning, its able treatment of incidental ques- 
tions, its beauty of style and wealth of imagination, above 
all, the simple and unaffected piety that breathes through- 
out the work, must give it this pre-eminence. 



THE TUBN. 29$ 

The sentiments attributed since to this author, or ex- 
pressed by him, on the doctrine of hell, do not affect the 
merit of his " Life," whatever discount they may make as to 
the value of his particular exegesis. Every scholar under- 
stands that the word "Hades " embraces both departments of 
the invisible world, — the intermediate state of the righteous, 
as well as of the wicked. The doctrine of future punish- 
ment does not turn on a single phrase of Scripture, still less 
on any blind deductions of human reason : it is a matter, 
not of speculation and reason, but of revelation. In the 
region of the supernatural our guide must be a fair interpre- 
tation of the general statements of the Bible, both as to eter- 
nal life, and its dark, contrasted counterpart, eternal death. 

But Richard Fuller had long ago emerged from this " re- 
gion and shadow of death" into "the marvellous light" 
and liberty of Christ. He had left far behind the breakers 
and the abyss, and was now drawing near to the "desired 
haven;" and this "Life of Christ" before him was a 
help to the life of Christ in his own soul. The feeling, the 
tears, with which he alluded to the closing chapters, was 
the holy instinct of a soul which felt its own pilgrimage 
drawing to a close. It was one of Bunyan's noblest pil- 
grims finding a sweet spring, where he refreshed himself, at 
the foot of the Hill Difficulty. It was the last sharp ascent 
he was preparing to climb to the top of the mount, from 
which he was soon to behold "the King in his beauty, and 
the land that is very far off." 



300 LIFE OF BICHABD FULLEB. 



CHAPTER XXVIII. 

THE CLOSE. 

" How beautiful it is for man to die 
Upon the walls of Zion ; to be called, 
Like a watch-worn and weary sentinel, 
To put his armor off, and rest in heaven ! " 

DR. FULLER never recovered from the attack in the fall 
and winter of 1875. He rallied, however, for a short 
time, so as to enter his pulpit again, and go once more 
through the usual routine of pastoral duty. 

His ministrations now assumed an unusual earnestness 
and tenderness. 

" From his illness in the winter of 1875 " (writes a member of his 
church), " his preaching and social intercourse were marked by pecul- 
iar earnestness and spirituality. As we now recall his utterances 
and manner, and the change of countenance that gradually came 
over him, it is plain to see that he was ripening for heaven." 

"I recall" (says another) "very clearly, in connection with his 
last year of labor, that his Wednesday-night lectures, addressed more 
particularly to the church, were marked by special spirituality and 
searching power. At one of these a little incident occurred that 
deeply impressed me. He was alluding to some future plan ; when 
he suddenly paused, and in a low tone of voice, as though he was 
communing with himself or some one unseen, he said, ' But, before 
that, it may be that Jesus will take me to himself.' As he said this, 
a slight thrill seemed to go through his frame, and a peaceful smile 
passed over and lighted up his face ; and then, just as abruptly, he 
took up again the thread of his remarks. The whole thing was the 
matter of a few seconds, and I know not if any one else noticed it; 
but I shall never forget it. I thought surely the full corn in the ear 



THE CLOSE. 301 

is ripening; and before long he will hear the word, 'Friend, come 
up higher.' " 

About this time he attended the annual meeting of the 
corporation of Columbian Universit} T in Washington, of 
which he was an overseer, and in which he was deeply inter- 
ested. Mr. Corcoran, its noble and munificent president, 
was not present. " I will go and see him," he said, " about 
the endowment." He was as active as usual in mind and 
manner, indulging in occasional sallies of wit. But some 
of his friends noticed about him what a lady in Baltimore — 
Mrs. Bonaparte, whose residence adjoined his — called "a 
far-off look." His form had become thinner, while that 
peculiar expression was the look of one who was soon going 
away. 

His last vacation he spent on the Jersey coast. Here in 
other days, at Squam Beach, the summer retreat of Commo- 
dore Stockton, he used to visit that officer, to whose lady he 
was related. The commodore and himself were both good 
sailors and brave swimmers. " Often," he said, "we would 
go in at night, and swim out to a bank a half-mile off the 
coast." 

But that robust health had been broken, and in a quieter 
way he passed this his last vacation on earth with Mrs. Dr. 
Clarke of Newark, Del., an intimate friend, and a former 
member of his church. 

"This visit" (she writes) "of my much-loved pastor was a 
source of great happiness to my husband and myself. I have had 
unspeakable gratification in hearing Mrs. Fuller say that the week 
Dr. Fuller spent with us was his last bright week on earth. Dr. 
Clarke saw while he was here the development of another carbun- 
cle, which (as he said it would) proved the fatal one. He was 
remarkably cheerful, and used to entertain us in the evening with 
his sallies of wit and bright conversation, for which he was always 
remarkable. But still I could see evidences of a gradual decline. 
The pastor of the Presbyterian church invited him to preach; and 
he gave us a most delightful sermon from the text, " In the face of 



302 LIFE OF BICHABD FULLER. 

Jesus Christ," — the face which we know he is now beholding. It 
was his custom to spend the morning and part of the afternoon 
writing or studying in his chamber; and in the evening he would 
meet with the family on the portico or in the drawing-room, as the 
weather permitted. It is a great happiness to me to think that his 
last week free from suffering was spent with me. I love to think of 
him as one of that throng that Bunyan saw, when he ' wished him- 
self among them.' How often have I heard him close his sermons 
with that quotation! " 

On his return from this last vacation he addressed him- 
self with his usual zeal to his work. A brief diary of some 
of his last ministrations is furnished by Miss Norris of 
Baltimore : — 

"Sept. 10, 1876. — Text for the morning sermon: 'How that in 
a great trial of affliction the abundance of their joy and their deep 
poverty abounded unto the riches of their liberality' (2 Cor. viii. 2). 
Joy in God. ~No matter what came, we could rejoice that the uni- 
verse contained such a Being. The little bird was not afraid of the 
storm. It had wings, and could fly. Christians, conscious of your 
immortality, why should you fear? You, too, have wings, and soon 
shall fly away, and be at rest. 

"Sermon at night: 'What I do thou kno west not now ; but thou 
shalt know hereafter' (John xiii. 7). Much of our Father's disci- 
pline we cannot understand: but it is the best economy for us; it 
is our education for eternity. One day we shall know. 

"Sept. 17. — Sermon for the morning: 'And he gave him none 
inheritance in it; no, not so much as to set his foot on ' (Acts vii. 5). 
We find satisfaction in nothing here. We never reach the goal. We 
are like children chasing a rainbow. All things seem to say, ' Your 
rest is not in me.' 

" On Monday, Sept. 18, he spoke of a great pressure of work. ' I 
have several sick persons to visit, and one in difficulty needing my 
help.' Speaking of a friend near his own age, he remarked, ' He and 
I are stronger than most young men. We are full of life. I never 
felt more anxious to work than now.' He spoke of longing for a 
more entire consecration to Jesus, and, kneeling, made the last prayer 
recorded from his lips : ' Lord Jesus, make us perfect.' 

"Sunday, Sept. 24. —Text for the morning: 'For we walk by 
faith, not by sight ' (2 Cor. v. 7). This was his last sermon. After 
the sermon he asked the church to remain, and said to them, that 
though he had spoken to the deacons of his being unwell, yet, as the 



THE CLOSE. 303 

church was his family, he wanted them to know that he had been 
suffering, and had come out to preach to them against the doctor's 
advice, but that he thought preaching had done him good. ' I never 
felt,' he added, ' more of love for Jesus, and a more intense desire to 
work for him. But he has touched my shoulder with a sword of fire. 
If any of you are sick and need me, or in sorrow, and I do not come 
to you, you must know that it is because my physician will not let 
me go out.' He was overcome with emotion, and, as the tears were 
rolling down his cheeks, ran up' the pulpit-stairs, saying, ' Pray for 
me.' " 

It was the last act of going in and out before his people ; 
the last movement in that pulpit where he had so often fur- 
nished an illustration of the prophet's words, " How beauti- 
ful upon the mountains are the feet of him that bringeth good 
tidings, that publisheth peace ! " He went up those pulpit- 
stairs as Moses climbed the mount, in the presence of the 
congregation, the cloud coming down to meet and wrap them 
out of sight forever. 

But by occasional messages and letters he still maintained 
communion with his dear flock. The following letter was 
dictated and sent to the church about this time : — 

Sept. 30, 1876. 

Beloved Brethren and Sisters, — With desire have I desired 
to eat this supper with you ; but now, when the time has come, my 
ever lovely, loving, and beloved Master hath touched my shoulder 
with a dagger of fire, and said, " Be still, and know that I am God." 
What I had a year ago was not a carbuncle. This is one ; and the 
agony is overpowering, or I would have tried to be with you to-day. 

I wish to write to you about a new chapel hymn-book for the lecture- 
room. When, five years ago, we went into the lecture-room, there 
was no provision for a hymn-book ; and one or two of us supplied the 
"Baptist Hymn and Tune Book," for the use of the lecture-room, 
without any expense to the church. I was going to get Mr. Sankey's 
hymns ; but, beautiful as they are, the binding is utterly flimsy ; and 
many of them, such as "Hold the Fort," are not suitable to our 
social worship. I became last spring acquainted with a very noble 
act of my old friend Mr. Smith Sheldon. The great Baptist book- 
store, Gould & Lincoln of Boston, failed most sadly. Mr. Gould's 
family were in danger of utter ruin, when Mr. Sheldon interposed, 



304 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

bid eight thousand dollars more than any one else for the assets, and 
secured to Mrs. Gould a handsome support. Among these assets 
was the copyright of " The Service of Song." Using the press of 
Cambridge University, Mr. Sheldon republished this work in superb 
style. He also gave five thousand copies of the Hymn-Book to 
our Southern Board, and five thousand to the Northern Board, for 
poor churches. These, of course, were without notes. One or two 
of us determined to let Mr. Sheldon know that we appreciated his 
conduct. Some of us furnished new hymns, and some of the hymns 
were taken from Mr. Sankey's book. I corresponded with Mr. Shel- 
don in the spring, and had a personal interview with him in August, 
the result of which may be thus stated : One hundred and fifty copies 
of the chapel book, at one dollar and twenty-five cents, amounts to 
one hundred and eighty-seven dollars and fifty cents. Mr. Sheldon 
reduces the price to eighty-five cents for us ; which makes the amount 
one hundred and twenty-seven dollars and fifty cents. For marking 
them, thirty-two dollars; which makes one hundred and fifty-nine 
dollars and fifty cents. If the church will receive the work for the 
lecture-room, Mr. Sheldon will give of this eighty-two dollars, leaving 
a balance of seventy-seven dollars and fifty cents. I beg for the privi- 
lege of being responsible for fifty dollars, which leaves but twenty- 
seven dollars and fifty cents to be raised. 

• I am in so much misery, that I have had to employ Mrs. Fuller to 
write these lines. Pray for me, and for one thing, — that I may be 
holy, and live wholly for Christ and for you. 

Ever your most devoted and grateful pastor and brother, 

E. Fuller. 
Do pray for our sick and afflicted members. They are always on 
my heart. 

Such was the faithful and considerate care which he cher- 
ished for the dear church in every interest, every detail of 
worship, to the last. But these and all communications with 
earth were now drawing to a close. He was so far up the 
mount, that he could scarcely communicate, even by signals, 
with the people below. 

" I shall die," he once said, " as Dr. Chalmers did, — in 
the midst of my work." Dr. Chalmers's end, as described 
by his son-in-law Dr. Hanna, was more like a translation 
than ordinary dying. He had retired in apparent health, and 



THE CLOSE. 305 

with more than usual high spirit, as he waved his hand, and 
said to the compan} T , "A general good-night." The next 
morning he was found in a half-sitting posture in his bed 
(a position he often assumed in quiet repose) , quite dead. 
His writing-implements were at hand, ready for use. But 
the Master had come at the cock-crowing to bid him put 
aside the weapons of his warfare, and enter into his rest. 

Like Chalmers, Richard Fuller was called awa} r in the 
abundance of his labors. But it was a more protracted strug- 
gle than with the great Scotchman : it was more like Guth- 
rie's last illness. When Guthrie was passing away, he was 
perplexed by the little specks floating before his vision. 
" Oh ! now I understand it," he said at last : " they are the 
land-birds on the mast of the ship, to tell me that I will soon 
be at home." And that far-off look which man} r noticed com- 
ing over the face of the beloved Fuller was the anxious look 
of the pilgrim who had caught glimpses of things invisible to 
other e}'es, — the King in his beaut}-, and the land that was 
no longer very far off. It was the summons he heard of the 
post, who had come to whisper that the Master whom he 
served loved him too well to let him remain so far from him 
any longer. 

All that human skill and science, and the most assiduous 
and tender nursing, could do, was done to break the hold 
of the disease. Drs. Steuart and Smith, men of eminent 
ability in their profession, were unremitting in their efforts. 
4 'He has a noble constitution," they said, " and has never 
abused it. He has the high courage of an old Roman." 

It was the old, ever-renewed, but ineffectual struggle 
between human skill and affection and the mystery and 
tragedy of death, — the folding of the dark curtains into 
that impenetrable barrier between us and the receding spirit. 
The end came slowly but inevitably on. 

From the first he saw, what others were unwilling to see, 
the beginning of the end. " God will yet raise you up," one 



306 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

at his side ventured to whisper. "No," he promptly an- 
swered : "I must go." Calling for a pencil, he wrote on a 
piece of paper the words, " The supreme struggle," and sent 
it to his dear friend and companion in the kingdom of Jesus 
Christ, Dr. Jeter of Richmond. 

But, through all the deepening struggle, that strong mind 
was clear, that loving heart was hopeful, and even cheerful. 
There was but one secret and explanation of this. He was 
conscious of it, and proclaimed it to the last. That gospel 
of the grace of God which he had ministered to others was 
now the well-spring of consolation in his own heart. That 
Saviour whom he had preached with such singular and noble 
constancy of purpose through a long and honored minis- 
try — - a ministry in which Jesus and his cross was the centre 
and the circumference of every sermon and address — was 
" all and in all " to his servant now, — a conscious and glo- 
rious presence in the cloud that had wrapped its folds about 
him. 

The exercise of Christian sympathy was a power in his 
own ministry, and any and every manifestation of it was a 
source of unspeakable comfort to him in his own soul now. 
A Baptist minister called to ask after him, and to say that 
he had just come from the weekly conference, where they 
had made him the one object of their united supplications. 
" How precious, precious, the love of my brethren! " But 
the personal love of a present, personal Saviour " was the 
secret of the Lord" with his servant. A member of the 
family whispered, "You remember how He is said to 'be 
touched with the feeling of our infirmities ; ' how you used 
to tell us that you never had a sorrow, a little pain, which 
you did not feel free to lay at once before him." — "Yes, 
precious, precious Saviour!" he whispered with an accent 
of inexpressible tenderness. Here plainly was the strength 
that was made "perfect in weakness," the grace that was 
fully and sweetly sufficient for him. 



THE CLOSE. 307 

Still in the gathering darkness his dear church was on his 
heart, — the manifestation of the spirit of Christ, who, " hav- 
ing loved his own that were in the world, loved them to the 
end." About this time he dictated the following letter, over- 
flowing with the tenderness of a soul ripe for heaven, — the 
last signal of the man of God from the mountain-top to the 
congregation below, before the cloud wrapped him forever out 
of sight : — 

Oct. 9, 1876. 

My dearly-beloved, precious Brothers and Sisters, — To 
a man in my situation, the most earnest, solemn question is, " If a man 
die, shall he live again?" It is this question which gives life its 
value, which makes Christian friendship sweet and glorious. 

Left to sense and reason, all is perplexity; but, blessed be God! 
there is no uncertainty. All is peace and certainty. Christ's death 
and resurrection stamp eternal truth upon this great doctrine. 

I feel that " the time of my departure is at hand. I have fought 
a good fight, I have finished my course : henceforth there is laid up 
for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, 
shall give me at that day; and not to me only, but unto all them also 
that love his appearing." 

Many of you have seen in me much inconsistency, I doubt not. I 
have lamented my constant deficiencies. 

I have prepared a number of sermons, which I hope you will pub- 
lish, as they will do good, I hope. How strange the fact, that, while 
you are publishing and reading them, I shall never see them ! 

I commit to you my wife and child and grandchild. Take care 
of them for me. Above all, be faithful to Christ and his truth. 
Ever devotedly, 

E. Fuller. 

The twilight was fast deepening into night ; the mystery 
of life was merging into the mystery and shadow of death. 
One fall afternoon, as the sun was declining, and that dear 
life was hanging low, a near relative who had grown up with 
him as a son in the gospel was summoned to his side. En- 
tering the darkened room, he stood by him, and, taking the 
dear hand that was so often lifted in pointing the lost and 
sinful to the cross, he stooped over it, and bathed it with 
tears, and kissed it. " My son," said the dying man, "I 



308 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

led }'Ou to Christ. You may suppose, that, to a man in my 
position, the question must come, ' If a man die, shall he 
live again ? ' The world does not believe it ; the church only 
half believes it. But saj T to them that } t ou saw me here, re- 
joicing in view of that life and immortality which Jesus has 
brought to light." The dear wife stepped lightly up, and 
whispered, " You had better bid him good-night." Bending 
once more over the dear hand, and kissing it, his nephew 
whispered, "Good-night." — "Oh!" said Richard Fuller 
quickly, and even cheerfully, " it will be soon good-morning." 
It was Banyan's pilgrim Hopeful in the middle of the river, 
cheering the others, and saying, "Be of good cheer, my 
brother. I feel the bottom, and it is good." 

But the clouds gathered thicker and faster around the dear 
form. The end of the life here, and the dawn of the life 
beyond, were at hand. On the night of the 19th October, 
1876, as the night wore on, and the morning approached, one 
of the noblest spirits that ever blessed this earth was leaving 
it. The Rev. Dr. Brantly, the son of his old Beaufort j)re- 
ceptor, was watching by his side. " It must be a comfort to 
you," he whispered, "to think of the multitudes you have 
led to Jesus." — "Poor sinner!" was the response that 
struggled up from the lips of the dying servant of Christ, 
who felt always, and never so fully as then, that neither per- 
sonal gift, nor ministerial success, was any thing, but that 
Christ was all. Quoting a line of a favorite hymn, he mur- 
mured, — 

" Jesus, Saviour, pilot me," 

adding, " into heaven." 

The ruling passion may not always be strong in death. 
Through physical weakness, its promptings may be repressed : 
still there will be gleams and flashes of the original fire. 
Napoleon, dying on the iron bed which he used at Austerlitz, 
talked as if he were charging at the head of his army. Old 
Dr. Adam, a Scotch schoolmaster, spoke as if he were in his 



THE CLOSE. 309 

schoolroom, and, with a strange yet simple association, said, 
" Boys, it is getting dark : 3-011 can go." Thomas Arnold of 
Rugb} r , after sa}'ing to his son, " My son, thank God with 
me for this pain, it is so merciful in him to send it," turned, 
with that sweetness of expression which characterized him, 
and, with a look of unutterable tenderness fastened on his 
wife and children, passed away. And Richard Fuller — the 
good soldier of Jesus Christ, the faithful herald of the cross, 
who from the hour in which he had said to Daniel Baker in 
Beaufort/" O sir ! I have an ocean of joy," through all his 
blessed ministiy and beautiful life, to the delirium of the last 
" supreme struggle," had known no other secret of personal 
religion, and no other watchword and jo} T and crown of min- 
isterial ambition, than the one thought of "Jesus Christ and 
him crucified," which had transfused itself through every 
fibre of his being — murmured in broken accents, as he was 
passing away, the expression of that dying 3-et deathless 
faith and love, " Who'll preach Jesus? " 

We have little or no heart for the mere earthly sequel, — 
the details of the funeral service : it was the mere earth- 
ward side of a heavenward translation. As the continuous 
roll of thunder tells of the passage of the lightning, the hum 
of murmuring voices, the eager though subdued inquiries of 
the crowds that ebbed and flowed all day about the residence 
on Park Street, was all the echo of that glorious upward 
movement. The expressions of sympathy that came from 
all classes, rich and poor, in the community where he was 
known as a faithful minister of Christ for nearly thirty years, 
the messages of love and unaffected grief that came bj' tele- 
graph and letter from all parts of the land, were the sad, 
prolonged reverberations of that upward flash, — the return 
of the spirit to God who gave it. 

"Know ye not that there is a prince and a great man 
fallen this day in Israel ? ' ' were the singularly appropriate 
words from which the Rev. Dr. Brantly spoke to the bereaved 



310 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

congregation. The dense multitudes that surged in and 
around the church, the praj'ers and Iryiims that trembled 
through the loft} 7 arches of the building, as if to tell Jesus 
of their sorrow, seemed, by an almost audible response, to 
answer the question of the preacher: "Yes, we know well 
that a prince and a great man has fallen in Israel." The 
long procession filed away to the cemetery. The white spire 
of the church loomed up in the gathering darkness, as if in 
conscious sympathy with the scene. Like him who had min- 
istered under its shadow, the lower part was visible on the 
earth ; but the crown and glory had disappeared in heaven. 
A brief committal, a trembling stanza of rest, a short 
prayer in the ear of the merciful Father and pitying Re- 
deemer, a word of salutation and farewell over the Christian 
soldier, and father, and brother, — "Well done, good and 
faithful servant ; enter thou into the joy of thy Lord," — and 
the earthward side of the journey and procession was forever 
ended. 

We buried him in the gloaming 

Of a dull October day; 
And a song and a joy seemed forever to die, 
And a brightness to fade from the earth and the sky, 

When we laid him that evening away. 

We buried him in the twilight, 

With mist and shadows dim ; 
But the tears we shed fell faster than rain, 
And sharper than lightning the anguish and pain 

We felt at parting with him. 

We left him there in the darkness, 

And whispered a hurried " Good-night!" 
But " The morning will come " we remember he said 
So sweetly that night, ere his spirit had fled 
As a star in the morning light. 

The following is the inscription on the tablet to the right 
of the pulpit : — 



THE CLOSE. 311 



^tictxarxl teller, 

BORN IN BEAUFORT, S.C., APRIL 22, 1804. 



Pastor of the Baptist Church, Beaufort, 1832 to 1847; 

Seveoth Church, Baltimore, Md., 1847 to 1871; 

Eutaw-Place Church, 1871 to 1876. 



DIED OCTOBER 20, 1876. 



A Man - of Noble Presence, 
LearjStng, Eloquence, and Genius, 

it all honor to be called 
Servant of God, 

AND 

Minister of Jesus Christ. 



his last charge to his church : 

"ABOVE ALL, BE FAITHFUL TO CHRIST 
AND HIS TRUTH." 



HIS LAST PRATER 



LORD JESUS, KEEP US NEAR THEE; MAKE US PERFECT 

AND THINE SHALL BE THE GLORY 

FOR EVER AND EVER. AMEN." 



The following account of the monument to his memory in 
Greenmount Cemetery is kindly furnished by Mr. A. J. 
Lowndes of Baltimore : — 

"On the 3d of July, 1877, a monument of Italian marble was 
erected by the direction of the two churches in Baltimore with whom 
most of his life as a pastor had been spent. 

"It is situated in Greenmount Cemetery, a little south-east of the 
chapel (which stands on the brow of the hill), and near the spot 
where stood the dwelling-house of the former proprietor of Green- 
mount, Robert Oliver. 

"This memorial stone consists of a heavy, plain base, with sub- 
base bearing in large, raised letters his name. Upon this rests the 
die-block, each of its four sides finished in raised panels, ornamented 
with a moulding of acanthus-leaves. From the block rises a square 
shaft with chamfered corners, crowned with a bevelled cap. The 
entire height of the structure is about fifteen feet by four and one- 
half feet square at the base. 



312 



LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 



" The effect of tlie monument, in its simplicity and massiveness, 
is suggestive of the character, the virtues, of him whom it so fitly 
commemorates." 

THE INSCRIPTION. 





PASTOR OF, THE 


Eicfjarti jfttller* 


BAPTIST CHURCH, BEAUFORT, 




15 YEARS; 


"A PREACHER OF RIGHTEOUSNESS." 






SEVENTH BAPTIST CHURCH, BALTIMORE, 


BORN IN BEAUFORT, S.C., 


24 YEARS; 


April 22, 1804. 


EUTAW-PLACE BAPTIST CHURCH, 





5 YEARS. 


DIED IN BALTIMORE, MD, 






October 20, 1876. 


" I have not shunned to declare unto you 




all the counsel of God." 
" Therefore watch, and remember 




" FOR TO ME TO LIVE IS CHRIST, 


that I ceased not to warn 


AND TO DIE IS GAIN." 


every one 




night and day with tears." 


(1) 


(3) 


(2) 


(4) 


IN 1832 




HE WAS CALLED OF GOD 




TO THE 


THIS MEMORIAL 


"MINISTRY OF THE WORD," 




IN WHICH HE LABORED WITH 


IS THE TRIBUTE 


UNSWERVING FIDELITY AND 


OF MANY GRATEFUL HEARTS 


SIGNAL SUCCESS 


TO A 


TO THE END OF LIFE. 






FAITHFUL PASTOR 
AND 




"They that be wise shall shine 




as the brightness of the 


DEVOTED FRIEND. 


firmament ; 




And they that turn many to righteousness, 




As the stars for ever and ever." 





INFERENCE. 313 



CHAPTER XXIX. 

INFERENCE. 

" He was a man, take him for all in all : 
I shall not look upon his like again." 

" Yet not I, but the grace of God which was with me." 

EVERY effect is not only linked to a cause, ex niliilo nihil 
Jit, but demands, in explanation of it, an adequate 
cause. Lord Lyttleton is said to have been won from scep- 
ticism to Christianity by stucVring the conversion of Saul of 
Tarsus, which he could only understand on the supposition 
of the truth of the gospel. A life like that of Richard Fuller, 
with the exception of the distinctly miraculous element, is 
almost as remarkable a phenomenon. We see in both origi- 
nality of genius, accompanied b} r great force and earnestness 
of personal character ; while the reality of their change is 
attested in either case bj r a life that lifts it above the sus- 
picion either of delusion or of imposture. If there is but one 
explanation of the one fact, there is but one theory that will 
account for the other. " And they glorified God in me." 

With erery minister of the gospel there are two lines of 
experience that run parallel to each other, — his Christian 
and his ministerial life ; and in both spheres Richard Fuller 
must always occupy a prominent place in the uninspired rec- 
ords of the Church. 

As a preacher of the gospel and a good minister of Jesus 
Christ, he must rank with the foremost of this or of any age. 
Less metaphysical than Edwards, less strictly argumentative 



314 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

than Saurin, with less elaboration of st}ie than Robert Hall, 
he had, more than an} T or all of them, that rare combination 
of gifts which is necessaiy to the highest success. A logical 
mind sharpened by legal training ; ample resources which the 
life-long habits of the student placed always at his command ; 
a power of memory almost, if not quite, equal' to Lord Ma- 
caula3 T 's, of whom it is said that he forgot nothing that he 
ever read ; an ardent imagination that flung its charm and 
coloring over all, — this was the hiding and secret of his 
power. 

This mental furniture was made effective by a physique 
and manner which at once excited and commanded attention. 
Over six feet in height, he had a most commanding presence. 
A large, finely-shaped head, with a high, massive forehead, 
was crowned in early life with a profusion of rich brown 
hair loosely piled upon it. His figure was as straight and 
erect as an Indian's ; his hands and feet as delicately shaped 
as a woman's ; his voice of great power, and capable of the 
most varied modulation, — now rising and swelling like the 
thunder, then dying awa} 7 like the wail of an iEolian harp. 
This physique was to him what a good charger is to a captain 
going into battle, canying him through the thickest of the 
fight, and responding to every movement of the rider's 
will. 

He was not always equal in his efforts : no true genius 
can be in any line of action. There are moods and accidents 
which are not at our command, and the most able and self- 
possessed speaker is sometimes at their mercy. So with 
Eichard Fuller. When, through some untoward accident, his 
mind or bod} T , or both, were out of tune, he would fail to meet 
the expectation his great reputation had excited. His very 
efforts on these occasions would increase the embarrassment 
b} T showing his own consciousness of the trouble, and inability 
to overcome it. Man} 7 years ago, he was preaching before 
the Savannah-river Association in Beaufort. He preached 



INFERENCE. 315 

at the urgent request of the committee, but under protest, as 
he had just recovered from an attack of sickness. Some 
of the audience felt at once that the effort was beyond his 
strength, and the evident strain excited a sjmipathy of the 
most painful character. But de gustibus non disputandum. 
Some of the brethren came out exclaiming, "Well, Brother 
Fuller surpassed himself to-day." But, for one battle that 
Napoleon lost, he won a hundred ; and few ministers whose 
reputation created such a demand ever supplied it to the 
same extent as, he did in a ministry embracing nearly half a 
centuiy. 

As a platform lecturer of the modern lycenm school he 
was averse to these performances, and regarded them as det- 
rimental, in his case at least, to the preaching of the gospel. 
The story is told of his having consented once to lecture on 
some literary theme in Washington ; but, before the day 
arrived, a letter came from him, begging to be excused, as 
he was sure, he said, that, if he began, he should preach 
Christ before he got through, and that might be regarded as 
an impertinence. 

He did, it appears, make one or two ventures of the kind 
in the lecture-field, but with little satisfaction either to his 
friends or himself. 

"Only since the war," writes a Baltimore correspondent, "when 
he thought he might be useful to his afflicted family and others in 
the South, did he consent to deliver a lecture. I wish the scene as I 
witnessed it could be put on paper. Eising before a large audience, 
he laid his manuscript before him, took out his spectacles, and said, 
' To lecture means to read.' Adjusting his glasses, he continued, 
' There sit Drs. Bacon and Samson and Williams, smiling, and 
saying, " How, then, shall he lecture ? for he can't read his own 
writing." Well, I will let you see that I can do it.' He did man- 
age to read through ; but it was so unlike himself when preaching, we 
all thought it was a pity he ever attempted it. He soon abandoned 
lecturing." 

So with the reading of his essay on ' ' Personal Religion ' ' 



316 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

before the Evangelical Alliance in New York. The subject- 
matter was admirable ; but the reading from manuscript, 
without the aid and emphasis of his impassioned delivery, 
reminded one who heard him of a" caged eagle." 

Many of his published discourses will compare favorably 
with the masterpieces of the British or French pulpit, and 
will be read with interest when much of the popular Ameri- 
can religious literature of the day is forgotten. They may 
lack the stateliness of Chalmers's astronomical discourses, 
and the exquisite harmony of some of Frederick Robert- 
son's sermons ; but they are superior to both the Scotch and 
English divine in the force and precision of their logic, and 
the melting pathos and unction of their appeals. 

Still it was not as an author, controversialist, or lecturer, 
that Richard Fuller won and maintained his great fame and 
influence, but as a preacher of "the glorious gospel of the 
blessed God." Dr. Plumer, the distinguished Presbyterian 
divine, who for some years was a co-laborer in Baltimore, 
thus writes : — 

"His published sermons are his best productions for the press. 
That on ' The Cross of Christ ' reads well ; but, when spoken by its 
author, it was grand and wonderful. Dr. Fuller's pulpit was his 
throne. There he reigned as a king over a willing people. We were 
often together, weeping and rejoicing. His preaching was attractive 
and effective. His sermons commonly, perhaps always, had ' signs 
following.' " 

The signs of that wonderful influence were not limited to 
his work in Beaufort and Baltimore, — the churches built, 
and the souls converted, by his ministry in these two pastor- 
ates ; but like the winged seeds borne by the wind to dis- 
tant places, and there springing up in luxuriant harvests, the 
loving messages of this modern apostle have yielded rich and 
abundant frait all over the land, in the confirmation of be- 
lievers, and the conversion of souls whose names and number 
may not be known until, in the light of eternity, we look into 
the open pages of the book of life. 



INFERENCE. 317 

But the public life of such a man can only be understood 
by referring to the parallel line of personal character and 
experience. The secret of his great influence and success as 
a minister was not the logic, or learning, or imagination, or 
pathos, or magnetism, of the speaker : it was something- 
deeper than all, — the faith and spirit, in other words the 
grace of God, that was in him. The human work was a 
divine thought and product. 

A clear conception and full appreciation of the central 
doctrine of the cross, — some view of this truth eveiy Chris- 
tian, of course, must have ; but with the minister it is at 
once his own life, and the soul and life of his ministry. " I 
believed, therefore have I spoken." Without this personal 
conviction, whatever the eloquence of the speaker, his words 
can never come ' ' in demonstration of the Spirit and of 
power : " they will not be, what words about the gospel ought 
to be, " spirit and life ; " they will lack the force, directness, 
and persuasion which can only spring from the inner fountains 
of personal faith and experience. This is sound philosophy, 
as well as the plain teaching of the Bible. Si vis me Jlere, 
primum dolendum est tibi. And it pleased God to give to 
Richard Fuller, not only a profound conviction as to "the 
truth as it is in Jesus," but a constant and overflowing ten- 
derness of spirit in view of that truth. He swayed at will 
the vast audiences that thronged around him, because, in the 
depth of his own soul, he felt the value and blessedness of 
the truth to which he was giving utterance. The tears that 
often coursed down his cheeks in preaching were the over- 
flowing of the fountains of tenderness that the love of Christ, 
and the view he had of it in his conversion, had opened in 
his own heart. 

After a sermon he once preached in the Baptist church in 
Augusta, Ga., on the text, " O foolish Galatians, who hath 
bewitched } t ou, that ye should not obey the truth, before 
whose eyes Jesus Christ hath been evidently set forth, cruci- 



318 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

fied among } t ou?" the pastor, Dr. Brantly, said to him, 
"That is the best sermon I ever heard from jrou." — "I 
had," he replied, " a perfect view of Christ upon the cross.'' 
And this enabled him to say, with such sweet emphasis and 
wonderful power, "Behold the Lamb of God, which taketh 
away the sin of the world ! ' ' 

The same thing appears in a sermon he once preached, 
soon after entering the ministry, in the First Baptist Church, 
Philadelphia, of which the elder Brantly was then pastor. 
The account is given by Dr. Fuller in his Reminiscences of 
the elder Brantly : — 

" I had lately entered the ministry, and, of course, had no little 
trepidation at the prospect of standing up for the first time before my 
old teacher, famed, as Dr. Manly had told me, for his tremendous 
criticisms on young preachers. Having just left the bar for the pul- 
pit, I had no theological furniture, no mental equipment, for my new 
profession; nothing, indeed, except to tell what grace had put into 
my heart, — the simple story of the cross. As the sabbath approached, 
I was, I confess, strongly tempted to essay some touches of science 
and literature. The hymn before sermon was that of Fawcett, — 

' Religion is the chief concern 
Of mortals here below.' 

I saw this produced a marked impression upon Dr. Brantly, who sat 
before me, his open brow somewhat clouded, as I knew, with recent 
sorrow. The effect upon myself was electrical. The known cares 
and anxieties of my loved pastor, and my own wretched ambition, 
all melted me down. Before me were thousands passing into eter- 
nity ; above me were the opening heavens ; and, beneath, the yawning 
abyss. \ Dialectics and demonstrations were at an end, and the text 
chosen was, ' Thou art careful and troubled about many things ; but 
one thing is needful.'/ Scarcely had I commenced when I saw my 
friend's countenance beaming with radiance; presently it was bathed 
in tears; and during the latter part of the services he covered his face 
with his hands, and sobbed aloud." 

This was the view and love of his Saviour, which, filling 
his heart and mind more and more as he went on with his 
life-work, formed the subject-matter of every sermon, the 
inspiration of every effort, and the open secret of his success 
in winning souls to Christ. 



INFEBENCE. 319 

As a corollary to this faith was the most unaffected humili- 
ty of soul. This trait, in connection with rare gifts and 
pre-eminent talents, can be no mere product of nature : it is 
and must be " from above." To strangers this was not 
alwa} T s apparent. There was a seeming reserve, and asser- 
tion of superiority often, in his manner, which, if it did not 
savor of pride, still left the impression with some that he 
was not a man of airy special humbleness of mind. Some 
ministers have complained of his want of that free and genial 
bearing in his intercourse with them which a common pro- 
fession warranted them to expect. This, on some occasions, 
amounted to a bruskness which gave offence. Especially when 
his quick sense of propriety in the conduct of religious ser- 
vices convinced him that something was wrong, that the truth 
he loved above all things was suffering at the hands of its 
friends, Ins impulsiveness of temper would carry him beyond 
the bounds of prudence and the customary conventionalities 
of the place. During the revival of 1846 in Charleston, 
S.C., the leader of the singing, an excellent but somewhat 
eccentric man, commenced, on one occasion, a tune which it 
was evident nobod}' else knew. Most ministers would have 
groaned in silence under the operation ; but not he. " Stop, 
stop ! " he cried out in the midst of the solo : ' ' sing some- 
thing, my dear brother, we can join in." The chorister, if 
we remember aright, lost Ms temper as well as his tune for 
the moment, and took up his hat and went out. But soon 
after the minister sought him out, asked his forgiveness, and 
insisted upon and secured his return. He was not always in 
such things sufficiently guarded as to the effect of his criti- 
cisms on sensitive natures ; but as soon as he saw, or was 
reminded of, any real or supposed wrong, he was prompt 
in confessing it, and asking forgiveness for it. 

No Christian ever felt more profoundly, or confessed more 
fully, his own imperfections of temper and life. In a letter 
on this subject to an intimate friend he says, " Seasons of 



320 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

sickness with me are seasons of self-examination and recon- 
version ; and yet how soon does the discovery of my own 
vileness cause me to wonder whether even the omnipotence 
of God himself can make any thing out of such a body, soul, 
and spirit as mine ! " 

It was this self-knowledge, and the deep humility of soul 
growing out of it, that made the Saviour increasingly precious 
to him, the cross of that Saviour the grand rallying centre 
and support of his personal and ministerial life. This led 
him to pronounce the very name of Jesus with a sweetness 
of tone and accent that we have never heard approached b} r 
any other. In 1875, at the convention in Richmond, three 
converted Indians were singing some of their wild songs for 
the people. One of them spoke a few broken words about 
the Saviour, and his goodness to them. Both song and 
address were largely unintelligible to most of us ; but there 
was a singular and touching tenderness and sweetness in 
their pronunciation of that name Jesus. But Richard Fuller 
could utter it in prayer, or in his address, with a tone of 
mingled reverence, and chastened familiarity of expression, 
which, while it may have shown the perfect elocutionist, re- 
vealed at the same time a better and profounder secret, — the 
personal love of a personal Saviour ; the feeling of a soul led 
by a deep consciousness of its own want and woe to cr}', 
" Jesus, thou son of David, have mercy on me ! "J 

With these central fires of faith and love in his soul, he 
was a man of great industry and abundant labors. His 
nature was full of energ} r , and his conversion had developed 
this into tenfold earnestness and enthusiasm. 

As a preacher, he was a hard student, a close reader, a 
diligent worker over his sermons, to the end. "Monday 
morning, by nine o'clock," he used to say, " I have my texts 
for next Sunda} T . I am at work on the morning sermon 
until Thursday : the rest of the week I give to the second. 
Then, if something occurs to } t ou in the pulpit, say it." 



INFERENCE. 321 

Some of his own happiest sentences were in this way strictly 
extemporaneous ; but they came with him, as the}^ must with 
every one, from the momentum of a previous and thorough 
preparation. 

So with pastoral work and visitation : he was ' ' instant in 
season and out of season." Dr. Williams of Baltimore, 
who for more than a quarter of a centuiy was a colleague 
of Dr. Fuller in this field, saj^s of him, — 

" He was a great worker. I question whether any pastor in Balti- 
more, of any denomination, did half as much work as he. He 
neglected no one. He went everywhere, especially if he saw the 
least opportunity to win a soul to Christ. He always had an object in 
view. The impenitent, the serious, the sick, the afflicted, claimed 
his chief attention. He was the greatest worker I ever knew. His 
example in this particular has been greatly blessed to me. I could 
not be idle with such an associate. His example has been a stimulant 
to every Baptist pastor who has been here during his life. He should 
be held up as an example to the ministry, especially to young minis- 
ters, to show that genius, talent, learning, eloquence, is not all ; that, 
if they would succeed, they must be workers." 

This was his spirit to the last. " I never in my life felt so 
much like working for Jesus," he said in his last illness, 
after the Master had whispered in his ear, " Come apart and 
rest a while," touching him on the shoulder, as he said, with 
that " dagger of fire." 

Among the noblest of these activities was his large-hearted 
benevolence. " Ye are not your own; for 3-e are bought 
with a price," — even " with the precious blood of Christ." 
This he understood to involve not only the surrender of the 
heart, bat the consecration of every thing, — talent, influ- 
ence, property. He made it the rule and criterion of sound 
conversion ; so that once, when a friend was relating to him 
a very remarkable religious experience, he suddenly inter- 
rupted him by asking, " But what did he do or give for the 
cause ? ' ' He applied this rule to others because he realized 
its truth and importance for himself. A naturally free and 



322 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

generous spirit with him was sanctified by the grace of God 
to the noblest charities. 

He gave freely of his own means, and he knew how to 
induce others to give liberally, to the poor and the unfortu- 
nate ; and he did it in a way which showed as much delicacy 
and refinement as generosity. To many friends and relatives 
at the South who had been ruined by the war he was a min- 
istering angel here. 

"On one occasion," writes Dr. Williams, "a gentleman was recit- 
ing to him and a few others on the street the sufferings of his mother 
and family in the South. A few hours afterwards he called on the 
individual with a handful of notes, and said, ' This has just been 
handed me by my treasurer: take it, and send it to your family.' The 
friend protested ; but Dr. Fuller rushed out of the house, leaving the 
hundred dollars behind him. 

" He was often imposed upon by designing and unworthy appli- 
cants for aid. A woman had applied to the ministers of our denomi- 
nation for aid. Some of us satisfied ourselves that she was an im- 
postor, and were joking the doctor about his having been so easily 
deceived. ' O you hard-hearted creatures ! ' he said. ' I had rather 
lose my money than not be moved by a woman's tears.' " 

In the same line of benevolence, and ability to prompt its 
exercise with others, is the following incident : — 

" The Hon. , one of the first scholars and noblest statesmen 

of the South, being aged, and reduced from wealth to poverty, re- 
quested Dr. Fuller of Baltimore to effect a sale of a portion of his 
library. Having examined the catalogue, and found it to contain 
the best German and English editions of the Greek and Latin classics, 
Dr. Fuller opened a negotiation with Mr. Spofford, the librarian 
of Congress, and everything seemed to prosper; when suddenly the 
House of Eepresentatives was afflicted with a spasm of economy, and 
so retrenched the library appropriation as to forbid purchases. Dr. 
Fuller then addressed President Eliot of Harvard University, remind- 
ing him that Mr. had been and was still an honor to the uni- 
versity, and that he (Fuller) and other graduates would regard it as 
a graceful act if the library there would place these works upon its 
shelves. The correspondence was very pleasing; and, while it was in 
progress, Dr. Fuller received a beautiful letter from Ralph Waldo 



INFERENCE. 323 

Emerson, whom our readers know by his literary reputation. Mr. 
Emerson said it was impossible at that time to dispose of the books 
at their proper value, but sent a check to Dr. Fuller, saying that two 

of Mr. 's surviving classmates, remembering with loving esteem 

his genius and noble character while associated with them in college, 
begged him to allow them thus to give a very feeble expression to 
their feelings. The draft was for five hundred dollars, and Mr. Em- 
erson's letter was very touching.'' 

Man}' of Christ's little ones, besides the poor man at the 
funeral in Baltimore, could have pointed to the white hands 
folded meekly on his breast, and said, " There are the hands 
that often ministered to me." 

And the crowning stamp of the divine life in him was the 
evident 3-earning of his soul for personal holiness. If this 
principle of holiness is the seed of the new life, its growth 
will be the crown and perfection of that life. 

On the occasion of a recent visit to Washington, seeing on 
the table at a friend's house a little volume that had been 
recently published on "Holiness," he eagerly took it up, 
remarking, "This is what I want;" and at once was en- 
gaged in it. 

"During his last years," says one of his most intimate friends, 
"his soul panted for holiness. During the labors of Mr. Earle some 
years since in this city, he threw his whole soul into the work. He 
was as humble as a little child. In one of his enthusiastic moods he 
one day exclaimed, ,' I had rather be holy than be in heaven! ' " 

As the end came on, and one light after another was ex- 
tinguished upon earth, this w r as the spark of the divine life 
that kindled and mounted up in heavenly brightness to its 
original source. How full of this blessed spirit, this pre- 
cious aroma of heaven, are the little notes that he sent 
from time to time to his people ! — 

Oct. 4, 1876. 

I write to my dear people to proclaim those sweet words, "As thy 
days, so shall thy strength be." He who loves to put power in weak- 
ness enabled me so to bear a painful but necessary operation, that I 



324 LIFE OF RICHARD FULLER. 

trust the two surgeons did not think less of the power of the gospel. 
My soul is with you to-night. Pray for me, that I may be "made 
perfect through suffering." 

Your devoted pastor, 

R. FULLER. 

Oct. 8, 1876. 
I have endured another operation, during which Jesus gave me 
grace to lie sweetly in his hands. I am a poor unworthy sinner. I 
grieve that my life has had so many inconsistencies; but I am full of 
peace in Jesus. 

Your devoted and grateful pastor, 

R. Fuller. 

As " the outward man " sunk under the power of disease, 
this was the power and manifestation of "the inward man," 
that was " renewed day by day." It was an almost tangible, 
visible embodiment of the new creature, separating itself from 
the earthly tabernacle, yet lingering to give these assurances 
before it took its heavenward flight. It was the spirit of the 
prayer he was once heard to offer : ' ' Take our hearts : we 
have no power to give them to Thee. When Thou hast taken 
them, keep them : we have no power to keep them for Thee. 
Take them just as they are, and make them just what Thou 
wouldest have them to be." In the darkness and delirium 
of the last night, he spoke and prayed as if in conscious 
communication with that glorious, invisible Presence: "A 
clean heart! Love to Jesus! — I mean supremely. Jesus, 
Saviour, be near to us now ! Make us perfect ! And thine 
shall be the gkuy forever and forever." The angel of the 
covenant was there to give the last touch to the work he had 
3^ears ago begun, to trace the last delicate lines where grace 
merges into glory ; and the face of the saint wears forever the 
expression and beauty of the angel. 

Glorious ' ' cloud of witnesses ' ' that has been swelling in 
volume and brightness since Paul sketched its outline in the 
eleventh and twelfth chapters of the Hebrews ! The face of 
that cloud as it looks upon us here is bright with the prom- 



INFERENCE. 325 

ises of God ; but the upper and more glorious edge is " quite 
in the verge of heaven. ' ' 

The witness of this ' ' great multitude which no man can 
number " is, in the unity of the Spirit, in perfect and un- 
broken harmony of evidence as to " the truth as it is in 
Jesus; " and, if it ceases for a moment with any of its 
members, it is because they form that part of the procession 
which has entered "within the gates into the city." The 
notes of preparation in the songs of our pilgrimage here 
must be followed by some grander chorus of praise and joy 
be3 T ond, as Bunyan saw it in his wonderful dream : "Glorious 
was it to see how the open region was filled with horses and 
chariots, with trumpeters and pipers, with singers, and play- 
ers upon stringed instruments, to welcome the pilgrims as 
they went up and followed one another in at the Beautiful 
Gate of the city." 

We draw to a conclusion in a task fruitful in tears, but 
blessed in memory and meaning. If, from the logical prem- 
ises of any proposition, the conclusion is inevitable, on every 
principle of sound, inductive reasoning, as well as of scriptu- 
ral truth and doctrine, there is, there can be, but one inference 
from such a life. Richard Fuller, as well as Paul, can say, 
— and must command our attention, if not our joyful assent, 
when he saj's, — "By the grace of God I am what I am." 
" And they glorified God in me." If such a spirit and life 
has no crown, no sequel of a blessed immortalit}^, then is 
the rudest building better than the gifted builder, and the 
spire of the Eutaw-place Church a nobler thing than the soul 
and genius of Richard Fuller. 



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